Title: Mending a Heart and the Tie that Binds 
 
Author: McKenna Espenshade
 
Author's Email: mckennaespen@hotmail.com
 
Pairings: Legolas/Elladan, Thranduil/Elrond
 
Rating: NC17
 
Summary: Legolas and Elladan are together again after being separated for 
several months, but trouble lies ahead for the couple. Thranduil and 
Elrond rekindle their friendship and possibly more… Sequel to Mending a 
Heart. AU. 
 
Disclaimer: Tolkien, Tolkien, I'm back again, 
	      writing fics until the end.
	      And I know I must give you your due,
                  these characters belong to you. 
                  And even though I love the lot, 
                  and happily have changed the plot, 
                  I truly mean no disrespect, 
                  although I write both slash and het. 
                  To everyone heed what I mean, 
                  The plot is mine, the rest, Tolkien's. 
 
Story Setup: This story takes place several months (about six to be exact) 
from the time of Mending a Heart.
 
Archive: Sure, but please ask. 
 
Special Notes: * indicate character thoughts. ~*~* indicates a division in 
the story or a time change. 
 

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

 
Chapter 1: Arrival in Lothlórien 
 
 
Haldir and the northern marchwardens of Lórien watched in amazement as 
two men approached the Golden Wood. 
 
“Humans are often crude and ostentatious, but never have I seen men 
wander about this territory unarmed,” Orophin said quietly, leaning close 
to Haldir.
 
Haldir regarded Orophin carefully and nodded. “Be on your guard, for 
men who travel across these lands so carelessly must fear little. We must 
be prepared for them when they enter.”
 
Orophin nodded and exchanged looks with his older brother, Rúmil; they 
knew what to do. Confrontations such as these did not occur every day, 
but the border patrolmen of Lothlórien had become accustomed to the 
occasional visitor who was sincerely lost, as well as the insufferable 
human who wanted to cause trouble. No matter what the reason for the 
intrusion, the guardsmen were there to ensure the safety of the inhabitants 
of Lórien, and they did so fiercely.
 
More than twenty elves littered the northern border of the forest, but 
within moments all of them had disappeared from sight. They ducked 
behind bushes or climbed the large trees that were scattered about the 
woods – only Haldir remained. He was the chief marchwarden of Lórien 
and would be the first one to face the intruders when they entered the 
realm.
 
Haldir took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Closing his eyes, he 
allowed the warm rays of the sun to bathe his face in light; it was a 
beautiful day. The birds chirped happily while butterflies flitted about, 
completely unaware of the confrontation that was about to take place. 
 
Opening his eyes slowly, Haldir straightened his posture and waited. He 
looked into the distance and shook his head. He could see the men as they 
made their way toward the northernmost boundary of the woods.
 
Haldir watched them distastefully. He did not like humans, and these two 
seemed to be the worse kind of men. They didn’t walk, but strutted 
haughtily. They wore bizarre looking cloaks that shielded their bodies 
from view and strange head coverings that boasted wide brims on top of 
their heads. The men approached silently; their heads were bowed.
 
Watching them closely, he noticed that the men had a purposeful stride; 
they knew exactly where they were going. Most humans avoided the 
Golden Wood; it was well known that elvish warriors protected its 
borders. However, these men were either ignorant or very brave, as their 
lives would certainly be forfeit if they dared to challenge the many well-
armed elves that were hidden throughout the northern border.
 
Both men entered the woods at the same time, making their presence 
obvious with every loud step they took.
 
Haldir nodded to Orophin and Rúmil who noiselessly leapt down from a 
nearby tree and armed their bows in only a moment’s time. He raised his 
right hand and four more warriors readied their weapons and stood hidden 
behind large bushes, ready to emerge and attack. Haldir smiled inwardly at 
the proficiency of his comrades. *I have taught them well.*
Haldir stepped directly in front of the strangers while Orophin and Rúmil 
flanked their older brother, aiming their arrows directly at the men’s 
hearts.
 
“You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood,” Haldir announced 
authoritatively. 
 
Both men stopped abruptly, but did not look up.
 
Haldir moved a bit closer. “You will come with me to be brought before 
Lady Galadriel. There is no escape; you cannot go back in the direction 
from whence you came.”
 
Just as Haldir completed his sentence, two elvish warriors came out of 
hiding and stood behind the two men. Their weapons were drawn to 
prevent the humans from trying to retreat.
 
“We will go in any direction we please,” one of the men snapped without 
looking up.
 
“You will do as I say, or you will die where you stand,” Haldir stated.
 
“We do not abide by your rules,” the other man spat icily. 
 
“You do not have a choice. You **will** comply,” Haldir said firmly.
 
One of the men took a step forward and four more hidden warriors 
emerged without delay, placing their arrows only inches away from each 
man’s chest.
 
“You will come with me,” Haldir said, still eyeing the men cautiously.
 
“I shall speak to the Lady about this treatment!” one of the men hollered, 
sounding almost amused.
 
Haldir stared at the stranger with alarm and tried to see his eyes, but the 
brim of the head covering concealed the man’s face. However, Haldir 
suspected that even though the men seemed to be looking down, somehow 
they were watching very carefully; he could feel their eyes boring into 
him. He looked at Orophin and then at Rúmil in dismay. There was 
something oddly familiar about these men.
 
“What are we waiting for?” one of the men asked. “We ain’t got all day!” 
 
The man’s voice seemed to crack when he said ‘ain’t.’ And Haldir could 
have sworn that he heard some soft laughter. “Who are you?” he 
demanded. “I will not take you before the Lady until you reveal 
yourselves!” 
 
“As you wish, Haldir,” one of the men said sweetly.
 
All of the warriors looked at the chief marchwarden, stunned. How had 
this human known Haldir’s name? They watched warily as the men 
removed their cloaks and then their head coverings. Before anyone could 
speak, both males began to laugh hysterically.
 
“Elladan! Elrohir!” Haldir exclaimed angrily. “You could have been 
killed!”
 
The elvish warriors of Lórien lowered their weapons slowly, looking at the 
twins in shock.
 
“If… if… you could have only seen the looks on all of your faces,” 
Elladan said, dropping to his knees, completely overcome with mirth.
 
“Especially Haldir!” Elrohir said between chuckles. “‘You have entered 
the realm of the Lady of the Wood,’” he mimicked as he doubled over and 
clutched his stomach, howling with glee.
 
Haldir shook his head disapprovingly as some of the other elves began to 
chuckle light-heartedly.
 
“I do not think that your grandmother will find your behavior amusing,” 
Haldir said as the twins began to regain their composure.
 
“Aw, come on Haldir. It was only a jest,” Elladan said in protest. “You 
aren’t going to tell on us are you?”
 
“I do not have to say anything to the Lady, for she will already be aware 
of your folly,” Haldir remarked.
 
“Well, then, perhaps my grandmother is aware of your folly as well,” 
Elladan said.
 
“Oh, Elladan,” Rúmil said in exasperation. “Are you still cross about our 
drollery?” 
 
“It was not funny,” Elladan said, glaring at Orophin when he chuckled.
 
“When we stole your horses we were only jesting,” Orophin explained, 
trying to stifle his laughter. 
 
“And anyway, our jest was nearly five years ago,” Rúmil said, shaking his 
head. “How can you possibly hold a grudge for so long?”
 
“Because you made us look like fools in front of the whole border patrol 
of Lórien!” Elrohir exclaimed. 
 
“This was our attempt to retaliate,” Elladan said, grinning.
 
“Well, I must say that you wasted your time,” Orophin chirped. “Our jest 
was far superior to yours.”
 
“Is that a fact?” Elladan asked.
 
“It is indeed,” Orophin said arrogantly. “Not only did we manage to steal 
your steeds, but we stole your dignity as well. Everyone felt so much 
sympathy for the Rivendell warriors who had somehow misplaced their 
horses. But lo and behold, the valiant elves of Lothlórien; they recovered 
the inadequate twin’s animals and thus, saved the day.”
 
Rúmil laughed. “I must admit that our prank was better than yours. We 
suffered no consequences from our folly. You, however, will be scolded 
by the Lady for behaving so foolishly. Why don’t the two of you just 
admit to your defeat?” 
 
“You are right,” Elladan said, nodding slowly. “You have won.”
 
Elrohir looked at Elladan in shock and smiled faintly when their eyes met. 
He knew that losing to the elves of Lothlórien was the last thing on his 
twin’s mind. Matching Elladan’s forlorn expression, he looked at Rúmil 
and Orophin sadly. “Elladan is right. We will accept our defeat and leave 
you be.”
 
Rúmil and Orophin beamed.
 
“Where are your steeds?” Haldir asked, ignoring the smug looks on his 
brother’s faces.
 
“We tethered them to a tree about a league from here,” Elrohir said.
 
“Kedar, Nandin, please ride out and bring their steeds. Rúmil and 
Orophin, you are in charge until I return,” Haldir announced. “I am taking 
the twins to see their grandmother. I am certain that she will want to speak 
to both of you as she will surely be quite cross.”
 
“What makes you so sure that our grandmother will be angry?” Elrohir 
asked. “We are the only grandsons that she has. Even as small children, 
Grandmother never punished us. And we know that our grandfather is not 
here, as he sent word to Rivendell, explaining that he and a host of his 
warriors would be journeying to Kendall. So we are safe from his wrath. 
Not to mention the fact that a host of elves from Mirkwood are due to 
arrive soon. Everyone will be too busy to concern themselves with Elladan 
or me.”
 
“Nonetheless,” Haldir said, “the Lady will want to speak with you, and 
hopefully give you both a tongue lashing. It was very foolhardy to traverse 
these lands without your steeds, especially unarmed. 
 
“We did not journey to Lórien without arms,” Elrohir corrected. “Our 
weaponry was left with the horses. For our jest to work, however, we had 
to enter the realm without elvish armaments or you would have guessed 
who we were right away.”
 
“It is still very dangerous,” Haldir chastised. “After what happened to your 
mother, I would have thought that the two of you had better judgment.”
 
“Bite your tongue!” Elladan hissed. “You have no right to speak about our 
mother. We are not children and are every bit as fierce a warrior as you! 
Elrohir and I fear nothing, especially orcs. If any one of the fell creatures 
approaches us then it will pay, dearly. We are just as skilled with weapons 
as we are with our bare hands and I am not afraid to get a little blood on 
my clothes. The creatures that harmed my mother and drove her away paid 
for it with their lives. And any other goblin that dares to harm myself or 
anyone else that I hold dear will meet a similar fate. Elrohir and I do not 
need weapons when we can use hatred as a shield.”
 
Haldir was rendered speechless by the vehemence of Elladan’s words. He 
gazed into the handsome young elf’s eyes and no longer saw his playful, 
teasing spirit. Instead, joviality had been replaced with an anger that 
seemed to permeate his entire being. His storm cloud colored eyes flashed 
and he trembled as though he were an animal ready to strike.
 
Orophin and Rúmil did not speak and looked to Haldir for guidance; they 
shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the silence.
 
Haldir sighed and smiled gently. “I am sorry. Neither you nor Elrohir are 
children. You are fully-grown and can make your own decisions, even if 
they are questionable. Forgive me if I spoke my mind too quickly about 
your mother, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.”
 
“Do not fret,” Elrohir said sincerely, placing his hand on Elladan’s 
shoulder. “We do not hold your words against you; you did not mean any 
harm. Perhaps, you should take us to see our grandmother. Our journey 
has been long and we are both tired and hungry.”
 
“As you wish,” Haldir said, bowing. He turned and led the twin warriors 
into the heart of the realm.  
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Elladan and Elrohir followed behind Haldir, ascending some stairs 
alongside an enormous mallorn tree. 
 
Elrohir watched his twin carefully. He could tell that Elladan was still 
quite upset and touched him lightly on the back, trying to reassure him. 
 
Elladan’s expression did not soften. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on 
Haldir and frowned even more deeply. 
 
When the elves reached the flet at the top of the stairs, Galadriel was 
waiting for them. She smiled warmly and looked at Haldir.
 
Haldir met the Lady’s eyes, nodded and bowed politely. She wanted to 
speak to the twins alone. Without hesitation, he left so that he could 
resume his post.
 
Galadriel watched as Haldir left and then focused her attention on her 
grandsons. First, she set her gaze upon Elrohir who met her eyes without 
haste. She could sense his concern for his older brother and his loyalty and 
love for the one who bore his semblance. Galadriel held Elrohir’s eyes as 
she spoke. “How are you, second-born grandson?”
 
“I am well,” Elrohir replied. 
 
“And how is your future bride, Ellaria?”
 
“She is well, Grandmother.”
 
“In our last message from Rivendell, your father told Celeborn and I that 
you would not marry in the spring like you had planned. Is all well?”
 
“Aye, Grandmother,” Elrohir replied quickly. “We decided to postpone 
our wedding until after the competition. Because Rivendell is to be the 
host of this wonderful event, much work and preparation has taken place 
over the last few months. Thus, Ellaria and I have had very little time to 
plan for our special occasion. We just decided that it would be better this 
way.”
 
“I see,” Galadriel said, looking at Elrohir carefully, disbelief imprinted in 
her eyes. “Well, I am glad that you both are here, although I was not 
expecting your arrival.”
 
“In his last letters to Rivendell, Grandfather said that Prince Legolas 
would be riding here to do his father’s bidding before journeying to 
Rivendell with the Lórien contest participants,” Elrohir explained. 
“Elladan has not seen Legolas in several months and desired to journey to 
Lothlórien to surprise him. I decided to come with him.”
 
“Ah yes,” Galadriel said, looking at Elladan, “Prince Legolas Greenleaf, 
King Thranduil’s youngest son. I am looking forward to meeting the elf 
who has captured your heart, Elladan.”
 
Elladan didn’t speak nor did he look at his grandmother. Instead, he 
studied the floor carefully, too angry to respond.
 
Galadriel met Elrohir’s eyes once more and smiled. Rising from her seat 
she approached her eldest grandchild and stood before him. “I can see 
your mind whether or not you would choose to look at me,” she said 
gently. “I can feel your anger.”
 
Elladan looked up slowly, met his grandmother’s eyes and sighed. He 
could feel her gaze gently probing his mind. 
 
“I understand the way you feel. Celebrían is my daughter – my only child. 
I lost her, too,” the Lady said a bit sadly. “But your hatred will not bring 
her back; it will poison your soul. You have so much to live for, Elladan. 
And I know that Celebrían would want you to be happy.”
 
Elladan tore his eyes away from his grandmother’s piercing gaze and 
looked at the floor once more.
 
“Release your anger this day, let it go.” Galadriel placed her hands on 
Elladan’s shoulders and closed her eyes.
 
Elladan felt a wave of warmth sweep over him, gently penetrating the core 
of his being. He could feel his grandmother’s love for him and was 
amazed at the way she could calm him without really doing anything at 
all. He raised his head to meet Galadriel’s eyes once again and saw her 
smile lovingly. Elladan felt his anger slowly dissipating. 
 
The Lady removed her hands from Elladan’s shoulders and smiled when 
her eldest grandson grinned sheepishly; he knew what she was going to 
say next.
 
“I…” Elladan began, but was silenced by a look from Galadriel.
 
“It greatly concerns me that the two of you would travel alone. Especially 
when the orcs seem to grow more bold with the passing of each day,” 
Galadriel said gently. “Furthermore, you should be careful when teasing 
the marchwardens of this realm,” she added with concern. “While they are 
your friends, they are also fierce warriors who could have killed you if you 
had continued to provoke them.”
 
“We were only jesting,” Elladan explained.
 
“Laughter is a healer,” Galadriel said in a soothing tone, “and I am glad 
that the two of you are such close companions with it. But you must also 
heed your surroundings at all times. Do not let your guard down for a 
moment, even when you are in the midst of your merrymaking.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir nodded in understanding, but then looked at one 
another with bewilderment.
 
Galadriel met Elladan’s eyes once again and laughed, “Yes, you may still 
jest. I only ask that you are careful when you do it.”
 
The twins looked at one another and beamed. Then, they embraced their 
grandmother and spent quite some time laughing and talking with her as 
the day wore on.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
A few hours later, Elladan and Elrohir made their way back to the northern 
border. Thanking Kedar and Nandin for getting their steeds and taking 
them to the stable hands, Elladan gave Haldir a scornful look. “You can 
stop looking so smug, Haldir. Grandmother did not punish us.”
 
“But I am sure that you were still scolded for your thoughtless behavior,” 
Haldir said, meeting Elladan’s eyes, “which you both deserved.”
 
“We are always scolded for our behavior,” Elrohir remarked with a shrug.
 
“And do you ever heed the words of wisdom that are bestowed upon 
you?” Haldir asked.
 
“Of course not!” both twins said in unison.
 
Rúmil and Orophin, as well as some other nearby elves, laughed.
 
“Well, I am not very amused with your foolishness,” Haldir said flatly. 
“You are fully grown and your actions should reflect your age.”
 
“You are right,” Elladan said in mock defeat.
 
Elrohir looked at Elladan in shock.
 
Elladan smiled sweetly at his younger brother and then looked into the 
distance. Looking back at Elrohir, Elladan winked. “Look, there,” he 
announced, pointing into the distance. “The prince is coming.”
 
“Aye,” Rúmil said, nodding. “We saw the host from Mirkwood when they 
were a few leagues off. They should arrive very soon.”
 
Elladan nodded and met Elrohir’s eyes once again.
 
Elrohir smiled deviously. Vengeance would be theirs this day.
 
Elladan looked at Rúmil seriously. “Perhaps Elrohir and I should tell you a 
bit about the prince. As you know, we have known Legolas for quite some 
time and he can be, well…”
 
“What?” Orophin asked curiously.
 
“He can be a bit difficult,” Elrohir remarked. “Elladan is right. We must 
tell you all about the prince and his preferences before he arrives. Then, 
perhaps, you may be able to avoid offending him.”
 
“Yes, please tell us everything that we will need to know prior to his 
arrival,” Rúmil said eagerly. “We would not want to upset King 
Thranduil’s son, especially because he has never been to Lothlórien 
before. We would like to make a good first impression.”
 
“Very well,” Elladan said. “The first thing that you must know about the 
prince is that he is not very attractive.”
 
“Indeed?” Rúmil asked, confused. “But I have heard that King Thranduil’s 
sons are very handsome.”
 
“Ah,” Elladan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “that is their father’s 
doing. You see, the king forces everyone in Mirkwood to say that his sons 
are fair of face so that he is not embarrassed. After all, he is the ruler of 
the Woodland Realm; he has a reputation to uphold.”
 
“I see,” Rúmil said, nodding his head.
 
“What else can you tell us?” Orophin asked.
 
“That you must cater to the king’s son, Prince Legolas, when he arrives,” 
Elrohir said, trying not to smile. “He is the youngest and favorite son of 
the king; thus, he expects special treatment. To insult him is to affront the 
king.”
 
“Oh,” Rúmil said, concerned. “Please tell us what we must do to please 
Prince Legolas then. What does he look like so we will know whom to 
address when he enters the realm?”
 
“Well,” Elladan continued, “he has stringy, dingy colored hair and a long 
face. His eyes are set so far apart that I wouldn’t be surprised if he could 
see the east and west sides of the woods all at once.”
 
Elrohir tried desperately to stifle his laughter.
 
“If he were a bit larger and combed his hair over to one side, I am certain 
that I could exchange my steed for him and ride all the way back to 
Rivendell,” Elladan added comically. “Perhaps I should consider speaking 
to the king about it. It would certainly put my grandmother’s fears to rest, 
for riding on top of such a horrific creature would certainly frighten any 
orc.”
 
“You should also know that the prince is very demanding and spoiled,” 
Elrohir stated. “He does not like to ride upon a horse and will want the two 
of you to carry him on your shoulders when he has entered the woods. 
Once you have removed him from his steed, you must run all the way to 
my grandmother, as the prince likes to make a grand entrance. If you fail 
to do this, I assure you that he will cause quite a scene and will complain 
to his father.”
 
“I see,” Rúmil said, looking at his brother. “Orophin, let’s make sure to 
make the prince as comfortable as possible.”
 
“Aye,” Orophin agreed.
 
Haldir shook his head and looked into the distance. He had heard that the 
youngest prince of Mirkwood was very fair of face and a magnificent 
archer as well. But he had escorted many members of royalty to meet with 
the Lord and Lady of Lórien over the years and knew all too well of their 
demanding behavior and their outlandish requests. And from what he was 
hearing about the prince of Mirkwood, he couldn’t help but dread meeting 
him.
 
“And please do not call him Prince Legolas,” Elladan remarked. “He 
prefers to be called ‘Little Leafy Greenlegs’ and will be quite displeased if 
you use his formal title.”
 
“Oh, Elladan and Elrohir,” Orophin said with relief, “I am so glad that the 
two of you are here to inform us of these things.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir grinned cordially.
 
“So, are you looking forward to your trip to Rivendell?” Elrohir asked 
Orophin and Rúmil.
 
“Aye,” the brothers chorused.
 
“Although…” Rúmil began.
 
“Although?” Elladan asked.
 
“Well, after hearing so much about the prince and his… his challenging 
ways, I am suddenly having some doubts,” Rúmil admitted. “After all, 
once the prince’s official duties are completed here, he will journey with 
us to Rivendell.”
 
“Do not fret, Rúmil,” Elladan said dismissively. “You will learn to adapt 
to the prince. If not, simply pretend that you are conversing with your 
horse. As I said earlier, he looks just like one, so I promise that the 
visualization will not be difficult. All I ask is that you try to resist the urge 
to leap on his back and nudge him with you heels, as you may find 
yourself cantering right out of Lothlórien!”
 
Both Orophin and Rúmil laughed.
 
“I am looking forward to the competition,” Elrohir said, changing the 
subject. “Rivendell is very beautiful this time of year, and I am sure that 
you will enjoy having the opportunity to show off your skill in the 
upcoming contest.”
 
“Yes,” Rúmil said happily, “I will miss Lórien, but I long for a few 
carefree months. I am looking forward to meeting elves from other realms 
and having the opportunity to explore Rivendell once again. We have not 
been within the borders of Lord Elrond’s realm for a millennia.”
 
“I must admit that I am excited about the contest, too,” Haldir remarked. 
“This will be the first time that all three elvish realms have come together 
for a battle of wits and a test of skill in various combat techniques. It 
should be great fun.”
 
“Ah yes,” Elrohir said, “I am looking forward to participating in the 
festivities. It is no secret that Elladan and I shall win every event.”
 
“I beg to differ,” Rúmil protested. “Orophin and I are older than you and 
thus better warriors. I would hate to see you cry, but be prepared to be 
defeated. You shan’t win.”
 
“We shall see,” Elrohir said, smiling.
 
“Ha! The only one crying will be Prince Legolas when he looses the only 
competition that he can enter - the beauty contest,” Elladan said, grinning 
devilishly.
 
“But Elladan,” Orophin said, confused. “There is no beauty contest. I 
thought that all of the competitions were based on various talents and 
mental prowess.”
 
“They are,” Elladan remarked. “But methinks that I will ask if it would be 
possible to include a beauty contest. Then, I will enter my horse and laugh 
myself to tears when the prince loses.”
 
Elrohir, Rúmil and Orophin laughed.
 
Within moments, the prince and his party entered the realm. The elves in 
Mirkwood were clad in the traditional colors of the Woodland elves – 
green tunics and brown leggings. And despite their long journey, all 
twelve elves rode, holding their heads high, each of them possessing an air 
of nobility.
 
Haldir and the other marchwardens bowed politely as the elves from 
Mirkwood approached. Commandingly, he stepped forward. “Welcome to 
Lothlórien. I am Haldir, the head marchwarden of the Golden Wood. I will 
lead you to the Lady of this realm for she is anxiously awaiting your 
arrival. You will meet Lord Celeborn a bit later as he is away but will 
return very soon.”
 
As Haldir spoke, he looked at each elf’s face carefully, trying to locate the 
prince. In an instant he saw a long-faced, wide-eyed male who stared at 
him indifferently. Deciding that this elf must be the prince, Haldir decided 
to speak directly to him out of respect.
 
Legolas listened to Haldir speak and smiled. The elves of Lothlórien 
seemed to be very friendly. However, he didn’t understand why the 
marchwardens were staring the elf to his left so intently. He knew that 
they had never seen him before but wondered why everyone had assumed 
that the king’s constable was the prince. 
 
“Little Leafy Greenlegs,” Orophin said warmly, “it is an honor to have 
you here. Please allow my brother and I to assist you.”
 
Legolas’ eyes widened and he looked at his guards with surprise. They 
stared at the prince in shock as well. *Little Leafy Greenlegs?*
 
Orophin and Rúmil walked over to the long-faced male and tried to pull 
him from his steed.
 
“What are you doing?” the elf asked in shock.
 
“We are only trying to please you, Little Leafy Greenlegs,” Orophin said, 
as he tugged at the elf’s leg.
 
“What? Please me?” the elf asked in disbelief. “Who… who is Little 
Leafy…”
 
But before he could finish his sentence, Orophin and Rúmil pulled him 
from his steed and heaved him up onto their shoulders.  Then, without 
warning, they began to run.
 
“Put me down! Put me down at once! Unhand me. Unhand me now!” The 
elf shrieked as his head flopped wildly in the air and his body was 
thrashed about violently.
 
Orophin and Rúmil stopped at once and helped the elf to get down.
 
“This is an outrage!” he yelled, rubbing his neck. “What type of lunacy is 
allowed in this realm?”
 
“But Little Leafy Greenlegs,” Rúmil said gently, “we were only trying to 
make you welcome here. We did not mean to offend you.”
 
“Who is Little Leafy Greenlegs?” the elf asked angrily.
 
“You are, are you not?” Orophin asked, suddenly looking at Rúmil with 
fright.
 
“I am the royal constable to King Thranduil! And my name is not Little 
Leafy Greenlegs, it is Goel!” he yelled.
 
Orophin and Rúmil looked at one another in shock and then looked at 
Haldir.
 
Haldir, though fraught with shame, maintained his composure. “Who then, 
is the prince?”
 
“I am,” Legolas said.
 
Everyone present looked at Legolas in incredulity. He wasn’t unattractive 
at all. In fact, he was beautiful.
 
Legolas regarded Haldir for a moment and then looked at Orophin and 
Rúmil. “Although I appreciate the offer, I am perfectly capable of riding 
my steed. There is no need for you to carry me, and feel free to call me 
Legolas. You needn't use my title or… any nicknames.”
 
Goel stumbled past Orophin and Rúmil and awkwardly mounted his steed, 
casting them an indignant look.
 
“We…” Rúmil said in defeat, “we are so sorry, my Lord. We were told 
that you required these things of us… that you wanted to be carried and 
called Little Leafy Greenlegs.”
 
Legolas laughed, as did the other elves from Mirkwood. “Who told you 
that I required such special treatment?”
 
“Elladan and Elrohir… the sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell,” Orophin 
said, pitifully. “They told us all about you.”
 
Legolas laughed again. 
 
“I should have known that the twins had something to do with this,” Goel 
said, smiling. “Those two always manage to cause trouble.”
 
“We heard that!” Elladan exclaimed as he and Elrohir emerged from the 
foliage. 
 
Orophin and Rúmil, who hadn’t realized that the twins had been hiding, 
gave them menacing looks.
 
“Why are you looking at us that way?” Elladan asked in mock dismay. 
“How can you be so ungrateful after all that Elrohir and I have done for 
you?”
 
Legolas gasped quietly upon seeing Elladan and felt his smile widen. He 
had dreamed about the day that he would see his lover again and 
desperately wanted to pull Elladan into his arms. Of course, this was not 
the time or place to engage in such pretentious behavior, but he could 
dream, couldn’t he?
 
Elladan met Legolas’ eyes for a moment and smiled. Legolas looked more 
beautiful than ever. His attention, however, was diverted from the 
handsome prince when Rúmil stepped directly in front of him.
 
“What you have done is make us look like fools in front of the prince and 
the king’s constable,” Rúmil said abruptly. “When Lady Galadriel and 
Lord Celeborn discover what we have done, they will be very angry!”
 
“I know,” Elladan quipped. “But you have learned a valuable lesson this 
day, have you not? Elrohir and I are not to be trifled with. You have much 
to learn if you are to best either of us at any jest… stealing our horses, 
indeed.”
 
“If you would please accept our most sincere and humble apology, your 
lordship,” Orophin said, ignoring Elladan, as he and Rúmil bowed deeply 
to the prince. “And Constable Goel, to you we give our most heartfelt 
regrets. I hope that you will find it within yourself to forgive our blunder.”
 
Goel laughed and smiled sincerely at Rúmil and Orophin. “Do not fret. 
Now that I know the reason for your behavior, everything that you did is 
understandable.”
 
“It is?” Orophin asked in amazement.
 
“Aye,” Goel said.
 
Orophin and Rúmil looked at the chancellor in disbelief.
 
“Please understand that I met the twins when I accompanied King 
Thranduil to Rivendell a few months ago. I am very well aware of their 
jests and have been the subject of their folly on more than one occasion,” 
Goel explained. “It is clear that you were led astray. Please do not despair. 
I will speak to the Lord and the Lady of this realm on your behalf.”
 
“Many thanks, Constable Goel,” Rúmil said, glaring at Elladan and 
Elrohir.
 
Haldir disappeared behind a large tree and reappeared with a white steed. 
Mounting the horse quickly he looked at the prince. “If it pleases you, 
your highness,” Haldir said, bowing his head, “I will escort you and your 
companions into the realm. The Lady is waiting to greet you.”
 
“Yes, Haldir,” Legolas said, nodding, “please lead the way.”
 
 Without any further delay, the visitors from Mirkwood were led into the 
realm.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Hello, Grandmother,” Elrohir said. “You summoned us?”
 
“Aye. Now that our visitors are getting settled,” Galadriel began, “we 
would like to speak with the two of you.”
 
“We?” Elladan asked.
 
“Elladan and Elrohir, how could you do such a thing?” Celeborn asked 
sharply. “How could you embarrass Orophin and Rúmil, not to mention 
the entire border patrol, like that?”
 
“Grandfather!” Elrohir exclaimed. “Wh… uh… when did you arrive?” 
 
“Apparently while the two of you were behaving like fools,” Celeborn 
said indignantly. “I returned to Lórien with a few of my warriors this day 
and left the rest behind in Kendall. I wanted to get back to Lothlórien as 
soon as possible so that I could meet the prince and the warriors from 
Mirkwood. But now I dread meeting them. I cannot imagine what they 
must think of us… what, with the two of you carrying on like children!”
 
“But Grandfather, we did not see you enter the realm.” Elrohir remarked 
nervously.
 
“I entered from the southern border,” Celeborn stated. “That is why you 
did not see me. Oh, but I heard all about your folly when Chancellor Goel 
asked me not to punish the northern marchwardens for their mistake. 
‘Little Leafy Greenlegs,’ indeed! How could you dishonor, not only the 
prince, but the king’s chancellor as well?” Celeborn asked.
 
“We just wanted to have a bit of fun,” Elladan said in protest. “And 
Legolas didn’t mind… neither did Goel; they know that Elrohir and I like 
to jest.”
 
“The only one laughing will be me when I get through with the two of 
you,” Celeborn said angrily.
 
“What do you mean?” Elrohir asked apprehensively.
 
“Your grandmother and I had a very long talk about the two of you and we 
have come to a decision,” Celeborn stated. “You both will be punished for 
your folly.”
 
“Punished?” the twins chorused in disbelief.
 
“That is correct,” Celeborn said, flatly. “Because you have chosen to 
behave like children, you must be chastised like they are.”
 
“And what if we refuse to do what you say?” Elladan asked defiantly.
 
“You will not refuse,” Celeborn said with confidence. “If you do, you 
know that I will tell Elrond what you have done. I am certain that your 
father’s punishment will be far worse than mine.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir looked at one another in defeat.
 
“What must we do to absolve ourselves?” Elrohir asked forlornly.
 
Celeborn smiled.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Prince Legolas,” Rúmil said, approaching the prince. “Does your steed 
need to be bathed?”
 
“Bathed?” Legolas asked, looking at Rúmil curiously.
 
“Aye,” Rúmil said, grinning. “Elladan and Elrohir have been instructed to 
wash every horse in Lórien. They are being punished for their iniquitous 
jest.”
 
“I see,” Legolas said pensively. “In that case, please take my horse and all 
of the horses, from Mirkwood, too. Oh, and please ask Elladan and Elrohir 
to clean behind my steed’s ears; he loves that.”
 
“As you wish,” Rúmil said happily as he led Legolas’ horse away.
 
Ascending the long stairway that led to the prince guest quarters, Legolas 
inhaled and exhaled deeply, admiring the splendor of this unfamiliar 
realm. The gentle wind blew his hair and the warm rays of the sun 
caressed his face. Lórien was beautiful. The valleys seemed to stretch 
endlessly and were accented by the enormous trees, streams and the 
glorious mountains in the distance.
 
A bit later, after unpacking his belongings, Legolas decided to go see 
Elladan. He longed to speak to him and was thrilled that they would be 
together again after so many months apart. 
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 2: Reunited 
 
 
“Hello,” Legolas said, smiling as he approached the small party of elves. 
 
“Hello, your Highness,” said Orophin and Rúmil, bowing deeply. 
 
“There is no need for such formality,” Legolas reminded the elves 
politely. “You may call me Legolas.”
 
“Very well, Legolas,” Rúmil said, nodding.
 
“What are your names?” Legolas asked.
 
“I am Orophin.”
 
“And I am Rúmil. Oh, and this is our older brother, Haldir,” Rúmil added, 
motioning to the chief marchwarden as he approached. 
 
“It is very nice to make your acquaintance,” Legolas said, smiling at the 
Lórien elves. 
 
“It is very nice to meet you as well,” Haldir said sincerely. 
 
“Ugh,” Elladan groaned, interrupting the conversation that was taking 
place. He flung himself back onto the grass after bathing the last steed and 
rubbed his aching arms. “I shall rue the day that I see another horse.”
 
“As will I,” Elrohir agreed, sitting down beside his brother. 
 
Orophin and Rúmil chuckled, having no sympathy for Elladan or Elrohir’s 
plight.
 
“Prince Legolas,” Goel began as he suddenly approached, but was 
interrupted when Elladan and Elrohir screamed and hid behind a nearby 
tree. “What mischief are they up to now?” he asked in dismay.
 
“I do not know,” Legolas said honestly, “but I am sure that they will not 
cause any more trouble as the Lord and Lady would surely punish them 
again.”
 
Goel nodded in agreement and focused his attention on Legolas once 
again. “Sire, I just spoke with Lord Celeborn’s aid. The council meeting 
will be held in two days.”
 
“Very well,” Legolas said. “In the meantime, please relax and enjoy the 
beauty of this realm, for you and the others will be returning to Mirkwood 
soon.”
 
“As you wish, your Highness,” Goel said, bowing and then walking away.
 
Elladan peeked around the side of the tree. “Has he gone?”
 
“Aye,” Legolas said, giving the twins a disapproving look as they emerged 
from their hiding place and sat down with their comrades on the grass. 
“Why are you being so cruel to Goel? What has he ever done to deserve 
such treatment?”
 
“He has never done anything,” Elladan said, “except that he looks like my 
horse’s twin. I feared that he wanted a bath too, and my arms are just too 
weary to wash another steed.”
 
“Shhh!” Elrohir hissed, looking at his brother sternly. “Our jests about 
Goel are the reason we were forced to wash every horse in this realm. If 
you do not be quiet, grandfather will see to it that we are to bathe every 
steed in Rivendell as well.”
 
“Goel does not look like a horse,” Legolas stated emphatically. “He is my 
father’s dearest friend and has always been kind to me. Once, in the midst 
of battle, I was wounded. Goel risked his life by placing me upon his back 
and carrying me all the way to Mirkwood.”
 
“He placed you on his back?” Elladan asked, unable to hide the 
amusement in his voice. “And did he gallop straightaway to the castle or 
did he stop to eat a bit of grass first?”
 
Elrohir began to laugh.
 
“That isn’t a very kind thing to say,” Legolas scolded. “He took me to his 
wife, Mara, and she saved my life. I am indebted to Goel.” 
 
“His wife’s name is Mare?” Elladan asked, laughing.
 
“Nay, her name is Mara,” Legolas explained.
 
“Mare-Ah,” Elladan said as he and Elrohir burst into laughter. “Oh, my 
side,” he whimpered, clutching his ribs as tears streamed down his face.
 
“It is my understanding that you stayed with Lord Elrond and his family 
for some time,” Haldir remarked, looking at the prince. “Were you 
subjected to the twin’s foolishness everyday?”
 
“Aye,” Legolas replied, nodding. “But I loved my time in Imladris. Elrond 
has become like a second father to me and Arwen is the sister that I never 
had; Elrohir reminds me a bit of my older brother, Makail, so I have come 
to think of him as kin.”
 
“Indeed? And what do you think of Elladan?” Rúmil asked when Legolas 
failed to mention Elladan’s name.
 
Legolas sighed and shook his head dramatically. “I do not like him. He is 
a nuisance.”
 
“Hey!” Elladan exclaimed as everyone laughed.
 
“I am only jesting,” Legolas said, meeting Elladan’s eyes for a moment 
before continuing. “Elladan is my best friend. I do not know what I would 
have done without him.”
 
Elladan smiled and felt his face redden. He tried desperately to think of 
something humorous to say, hoping that he could draw everyone’s 
attention away from him. But his wit often seemed to fail in the midst of 
embarrassment. He cursed silently but sighed with relief when one of the 
Mirkwood guards approached. 
 
“Sire,” the guard said, bowing before the prince.
 
“Yes, Flynn?” 
 
“Begging your pardon, Lordship, but may I speak to you in private?” 
Flynn asked. “I have a matter to discuss with you in regards to the 
upcoming council meeting.”
 
“Very well,” Legolas said. The prince turned to the group of elves and 
shrugged. “Duty calls. Thus, I must away. Perhaps we can resume our 
conversation at a later time.”
 
“That is an excellent idea,” Orophin said enthusiastically. 
 
“Until we meet again,” Legolas remarked, bowing.
 
“Farewell,” Haldir said as he and his brothers bowed.
 
The small group of elves watched as Legolas and the guard from 
Mirkwood walked away.
 
“He is the most handsome elf that I have ever seen,” Orophin said, staring 
after the prince. 
 
“Aye,” Haldir said, nodding. “He is both charming and beautiful and 
seems to be unattached. Are the elves in Mirkwood blind?”
 
“I was wondering the same thing,” Orophin added. “Perhaps I could 
discuss this with the prince in private. I heard about the death of his 
mother. Maybe he could use the comfort of a virile marchwarden, such as 
myself.”
 
Elladan stood up abruptly and glared at Orophin. 
 
Elrohir rose to his feet as well and placed his hand on Elladan’s shoulder 
as a means of restraint.
 
“If you so much as touch Legolas, I assure you that you will not be 
traveling to Rivendell to represent Lórien in the competition,” Elladan 
threatened. 
 
“Oh?” Orophin asked, amused by Elladan’s sudden display of anger. “And 
why is that?”
 
“Because you will be assisting me instead,” Elladan quipped. “You will 
truly become your name as during the boating competition I will use 
whatever limbs you have as **oars** or **fins** to guide Rivendell to 
victory.”
 
Rúmil chuckled.
 
Orophin looked at Elladan in disbelief. “What claim do you have on the 
prince to make you behave this way? You are acting as though the two of 
you are to be wed.”
 
“We are,” Elladan said, grinning at Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin’s 
openmouthed stares.
 
 “Is this another one of your jests, Elladan?” Orophin asked.
 
“Nay, it is not,” Elladan said sincerely. “Legolas and I are promised to one 
another.”
 
“Why did you not tell us that you and the prince were engaged?” Rúmil 
asked in dismay.
 
“What was I to say? ‘Hello, all. Did you know that the youngest prince of 
Mirkwood shares my bed?’”
 
“Nay, you would not have to be crass. But you could have told us that you 
were to be married to Legolas,” Rúmil scolded.
 
“I agree,” Orophin said. “We are your friends, and we are happy for you. 
Oh, and in case you did not know, I feel kindly toward my limbs and do 
not want to see them used for anything that I do not deem worthy. While 
Rivendell is lovely and I am sure that you will do well in the nautical 
competition, I would prefer to use the oars and fins that will be provided 
for us as opposed to my body parts. Let’s just say that I am quite 
**attached** to them.” 
 
Elladan laughed, as did the rest of his comrades. “I apologize for 
becoming angry earlier. Please understand, I… I… I love Legolas. And I 
am quick to show my wrath when someone I care so deeply for is harmed 
in any way,” Elladan explained. “I am sorry, Orophin, you were only 
asking about the prince. But when you made light of comforting him, I 
thought of all that Legolas has been through and became defensive. 
Legolas has suffered so much. I know because I saw his pain. I guess I am 
overly protective of him.”
 
“I accept your apology, Elladan.” Orophin said sincerely. “I was only 
attempting to be humorous. I had no idea that the two of you were in a 
relationship. I would not have said such a thing had I known.”
 
“I know,” Elladan said, placing his hand on Orophin’s shoulder. 
 
“Hello, Grandmother,” Elrohir said as Galadriel approached.
 
“Greetings, Elrohir. Have you and Elladan gotten settled?” Galadriel 
asked, looking at her grandsons.
 
“Aye,” Elrohir replied.
 
“Good,” Galadriel said. “I have some exciting information for you and 
wanted to be the first to tell you.”
 
“Indeed?” Elladan asked curiously.
 
“Please, Grandmother. Do not keep us in suspense.” Elrohir said.
 
“Very well. Guess who will be joining you on your trip to Rivendell and 
will be one of the representatives for Lórien in the upcoming 
competition?”
 
“Who?” the twins chorused.
 
 “Celeborn,” Galadriel said excitedly.
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks and frowned.
 
“You… you do not want your grandfather to accompany you?” Galadriel 
asked, looking at the twins, dismayed. 
 
“Of course we do,” Elrohir said quickly. “I am very pleased that 
Grandfather will be joining us.”
 
“You are?” Elladan asked but was stifled when Elrohir elbowed him in the 
ribs. 
 
“It is terrific news,” Elrohir continued as Elladan rubbed his side. “I am 
jealous that Lórien will be gaining such a fierce competitor. We could use 
a warrior like Grandfather on Rivendell’s side.”
 
“He will be pleased to hear that and will…”
 
“Begging your pardon, Milady,” a servant said, bowing, “but I need your 
assistance right away.”
 
“What has happened, Sydok?”
 
“I do not know. But Para sent for you and said that it was urgent.”
 
“Please, lead me to her,” Galadriel instructed and then turned to her 
grandsons. “I must away now, but will see all of you later… at the evening 
meal, perhaps. Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin, please join us, if you’d like. 
Celeborn and I have not had a proper meal with you in quite some time 
and would very much like to spend some time with all of you.”
 
“Thank you, Milady,” Haldir said, bowing deeply.
 
Without another word, Galadriel turned and hurriedly followed her 
servant.
 
“I cannot believe that!” Elladan exclaimed. “Elrohir what are we to do? 
We will not be able to jest at all if Grandfather is going to travel with us to 
Rivendell.”
 
“I know,” Elrohir said sadly, “but Grandfather hasn’t been to Rivendell in 
many years. I think that a trip to another realm would do him some good.”
 
“But he is always so hard on us,” Elladan whined. “He scolds us for every 
little incident. Do you remember the time that we placed an apple upon 
Drest’s head and used him as a target for archery practice?”
 
“Aye,” Elrohir said, grinning at the memory.
 
“Grandfather was livid,” Elladan said. “Just because Drest got shot in the 
arm was no reason for Grandfather to punish us so unmercifully.”
 
“You shot Drest?” Haldir asked in shock.
 
“It was only a flesh wound!” Elladan exclaimed. “It wouldn’t have 
happened if he hadn’t moved. He tried to run away and, as a result of his 
stupidity, got shot. It was **his** fault, not mine. And Grandfather, do 
you know what he did? He sent word to our father and mother and then 
forced us to stay in Lórien for three months!”
 
“What is so bad about that?” Rúmil asked.  
 
“He forced us to be Drest’s servants!” Elladan hollered. “Oh, and Drest 
loved every moment of our torment. You should have seen the way that he 
ordered us around. It was horrible.”
 
“I do not recall that incident,” Orophin said. “When did this occur?”
 
“About two thousand years ago,” Elrohir replied. “We were very young. 
And if my memory serves me correctly, the three of you as well as twenty 
or thirty Lórien elves left this realm to go to Bree… for some reason or 
another.”
 
“Ah yes,” Haldir said, watching several elves pass by. “I vaguely 
remember hearing that Drest was wounded while we were away, but I 
never knew what had caused his injury.”
 
“It was Elladan,” Elrohir said, smirking.
 
“Oh, be quiet!” Elladan snapped, folding his arms over his chest 
indignantly.
 
“If Elladan is the one who shot Drest, then why were you punished too, 
Elrohir?” Orophin asked.
 
“Damned by association,” Elrohir said, grinning.
 
“You lie!” Elladan shouted as he rounded on Elrohir. “It was your idea! 
Just because you were too frightened to follow though…”
 
“All I’m trying to say is that having Grandfather along may prove to be… 
fun,” Elrohir said.
 
“Fun? Fun!” Elladan exclaimed. “Tell me Elrohir, have you ever seen 
Grandfather laugh?”
 
“Nay.”
 
“You would not want to,” Elladan warned. “He is so stolid, methinks his 
face would split in two if he dared to smile too forcefully. What would we 
do if he decided to express enjoyment by laughing? I may be mistaken, but 
I do not believe that Goel will be journeying with us to Rivendell. And 
without Goel to place Grandfather upon his back and gallop to a healer, 
Grandfather would surely die.”
 
Haldir shook his head while Elrohir, Rúmil and Orophin laughed. 
 
“Then perhaps I should ask Goel to ride with us to Rivendell,” Celeborn 
said as he emerged from some nearby foliage. “I would hate to put my life 
in danger if I decided to laugh, or even grin for that matter.”
 
Elrohir and the others stopped laughing at once and exchanged nervous 
looks.
 
“Grandfather?” Elladan said in shock. “I… I… I did not sense that you 
were near.”
 
“Well, with so many elves passing through this valley, and you, in your 
agitated state, there is no way that you could have known that I was 
nearby,” Celeborn said. “But perhaps it is for the best, as your ignorance 
to my whereabouts has proven to be quite… enlightening.”
 
“Grandfather… I…” Elladan stammered.
 
“I will have you know that I have a wonderful sense of humor,” Celeborn 
said, giving Elladan a piercing look. “Why, I laughed quite heartily about 
four months ago and I was only incapacitated for a day or so.”
 
“Grandfather?” Elladan asked in amazement. “Are you jesting?”
 
“To be sure,” Celeborn said, winking. “Who do you think Celebrían got 
her mischievous streak from?” He flashed his eldest grandson an 
enormous smile and then touched his own face lightly. “Just checking.”
 
Elladan and his comrades laughed.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Elladan?” Legolas said, walking into his lover’s sleeping quarters. “May 
I enter?”
 
Elladan hesitated and then nodded slowly. “Of course.” He turned around 
and watched Legolas as he entered the small chamber. Elladan gasped 
quietly as he beheld the Mirkwood prince. The rays of the sun made 
Legolas look luminous as his flaxen hair shone in the light. His face was a 
vision of perfection, as each feature seemed as though it had been crafted 
with the utmost of delicacy, and his taut body stood strong and lean as 
though he were the model for which sculptures were made. Elladan let his 
eyes explore the prince’s lithe, but firm looking form and then looked up 
when he felt Legolas’ eyes boring into him. He met the prince’s amused 
stare and felt his face flush with embarrassment. “I am sorry. I did not 
mean to stare, but… I have yearned to set my eyes upon you. You are 
beautiful.”
 
Legolas smiled and stood directly in front of Elladan. “As are you, my 
Elladan.” The prince stepped even closer to the dark haired warrior and 
touched his face gently, sending chills of pleasure up Elladan’s spine. 
 
Elladan pulled away quickly and frowned. “I look terrible. I just came 
from taking a bath and am not fully dressed. I haven’t even combed my 
hair.”
 
Legolas stared blatantly at Elladan and smiled. He hadn’t even realized 
that Elladan was only partially dressed. The Rivendell elf was only 
wearing a grey tunic; his sable colored leggings were spread out neatly on 
the bed that sat in a corner of the room. Loose strands of wet hair were 
stuck to his face and his muscular, bare legs boasted of raw strength, grace 
and beauty. Legolas felt heat pooling in his lower region when he 
observed Elladan’s strong looking hands and remembered how they felt 
caressing his body. “You look more beautiful today than you have ever 
looked,” the prince said sincerely. “I long for you.”
 
Elladan couldn’t speak. His heart was racing and everything around him 
seemed to fade as Legolas moved even closer and brushed a wet, stray 
strand of hair from his face. 
 
“How I have missed you,” Legolas whispered, moving his lips against 
Elladan’s slowly.
 
Elladan moaned and closed his eyes. 
 
“I have craved your company by day and your touch by night,” Legolas 
continued softly. “And now I shall have both.” Without another word, 
Legolas pressed his mouth against Elladan’s.
 
Elladan met the prince’s kiss, stroking Legolas’ face tenderly as their 
passion intensified. 
 
“Touch me,” Legolas murmured. “Please, Elladan. I need you.” 
 
Elladan slid his tongue into the prince’s mouth and felt his heartbeat 
quicken when Legolas placed one of his hands underneath his tunic and on 
his hip.
 
Legolas grasped Elladan’s buttock firmly with one hand and placed his 
other hand on his lover’s bicep, pulling him closer. 
 
“Ai,” Elladan said, flinching.
 
“What ails you?” Legolas said, giving Elladan a concerned look when he 
pulled away.
 
“I apologize,” Elladan said as his face reddened with embarrassment. “My 
muscles are a bit sore from washing the horses.”
 
“I see,” Legolas said pensively. “Perhaps I can help.”
 
“How?”
 
“Lie upon the bed face down. I will do the rest.”
 
“Legolas, I… I can’t. I…”
 
“Shhh,” Legolas said quietly, placing his finger on Elladan’s lips. “You 
will feel much better once I’m done.” Before Elladan could protest, the 
prince grasped his hand and led him to the bed. Pushing him down gently, 
Elladan obeyed Legolas by lying on the bed. The prince straddled the dark 
haired warrior’s waist and placed his hands on Elladan shoulders. 
Kneading tenderly, Legolas could feel lover’s muscles tighten. “Relax,” 
the prince encouraged. “Clear your mind and rest your body.”
 
“Legolas, I…” Elladan began but stopped when the prince’s touch began 
to move lower. 
 
Legolas kneaded Elladan’s porcelain skin, moving his fingers over the 
plains of Elladan’s back. 
 
Elladan mumbled something under his breath and cursed.
 
“Am I hurting you?” Legolas asked, concerned.
 
“Nay,” Elladan replied. “But, there is something that I need to tell you.”
 
“Am I going to like what you are going to say?” Legolas asked.
 
“Probably not,” Elladan answered.
 
“Then do not speak until I am done,” Legolas said, moving his hands to 
Elladan’s left arm. 
 
Elladan groaned when the prince massaged a particularly sore muscle and 
cringed when Legolas began to focus his attention on Elladan’s other 
aching arm.
 
“Be still,” Legolas demanded, continuing to rub Elladan’s body. Moving 
his hands down even lower Legolas shifted his body so that he could 
continue his ministrations. The prince caressed Elladan’s lower back and 
moved his hands down further to the summit of Elladan’s buttocks. 
Stroking gently, he slid his hands underneath Elladan’s tunic and between 
his legs, brushing his scrotum, languidly.
 
“Nay, Legolas,” Elladan said, turning over abruptly and causing Legolas 
to topple onto the floor ungracefully.
 
“Ai!” Legolas exclaimed, glaring at Elladan.
 
“I am sorry,” Elladan said, standing up and extending his hand to Legolas. 
“I didn’t mean to harm you.”
 
Legolas grasped Elladan’s hand and was pulled to his feet with ease. 
“Why do you recoil from me? Have… have you found someone else? Is 
that what you are going to say to me?”
 
“Nay!” Elladan said, looking into Legolas sapphire eyes. “Nay, it’s just 
that…”
 
“That?” Legolas asked.
 
“Please, sit with me,” Elladan said.
 
“Very well.” Legolas sat on the bed beside Elladan and looked into his 
eyes.
 
“I want you so badly that it hurts… it aches,” Elladan began. “But I cannot 
be intimate with you here… not here.”
 
“I do not understand,” Legolas said, furrowing his brow. “Are you 
ashamed of me?”
 
“Ashamed?” Elladan asked in shock.
 
“No one seems to know that we are to be wed,” Legolas said. “Your 
grandparents knew, as they welcomed me to this realm as one of their 
future kin. But your friends, Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin, seemed to be 
unaware as to the nature of our relationship. I can only assume that you do 
not want it known that I am your lover.”
 
“Nay, that is not true,” Elladan said, placing his hand on Legolas’. “You 
know that I love you. My grandparents know about our engagement 
because I sent them a letter telling them about it after you left Rivendell. 
They are very discreet; they would not disclose something so personal to 
me… unless I asked them to. No one else knew because I have not been to 
Lórien for quite some time.”
 
“Then why do you not desire to lay with me?” Legolas asked, confused. 
“Please do not tell me that you fear losing your heart to me for a second 
time. I do not think that I could bear that kind of rejection again.”
 
“Nay, Legolas,” Elladan said, releasing the prince’s hand and stroking his 
cheek lightly. “It’s just that… well… this is the home of my 
grandparents… of my grandmother.”
 
“I do not understand,” Legolas said.
 
Elladan removed his hand from the prince’s face and sighed. “My 
grandmother is very powerful,” he explained. “Not only is she one of the 
ancient elves that still dwells in Middle-earth, but she possesses unearthly 
powers that enable her to read the minds of those she meets. Furthermore, 
she has a magic mirror that foretells the future; she can see the times of 
yore and things that are at hand.”
 
“I am aware of your grandmother’s gifts,” Legolas said. “There are tales 
about her that extend to all of the elvish realms and beyond. But what does 
your grandmother’s power have to do with us? Does her gift have some 
sort of control over you?”
 
“Nay,” Elladan said. “But she has knowledge of everything that happens 
in Lothlórien. If I were to be intimate with you… she would know.”
 
“Oh, Elladan,” Legolas said, chuckling. “Your grandmother is no fool. I 
am certain that she is well aware of the fact that we are lovers. There is no 
need to refrain…”
 
“I just can’t,’ Elladan said, interrupting the prince. “It is strange somehow. 
I would… feel guilty if I partook of such carnality here. For when I saw 
her in the morn I would know that she could look at my thoughts and see, 
that just hours before, I was fraught with passion and hear my cries of 
lustful pleasure.”
 
“So I must wait to have you then?” Legolas asked, trying to hide the 
frustration in his voice.  
 
“Please? Just until we arrive in Rivendell,” Elladan said. “Then, you may 
do whatever you like to me.”
 
“Whatever I like?” Legolas asked, grinning deviously.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said. “I will be at your mercy.”
 
“Hmmm…” Legolas said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Then I will use 
this time to think of some very naughty things to do to you.”
 
Elladan smiled. “Just do not think about it in front of my grandmother.”
 
“As you wish,” Legolas said. 
 
Elladan arose from the bed, pulled his leggings on quickly, combed his 
hair and accompanied Legolas to the Lord and Lady’s massive dinning 
hall. Then, he and his friends made merry for the remainder of the night.
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 3: Rivendell
 
A/N: *Quote from Marcus Aurelius. Also, thanks so much for the 
wonderful reviews and feedback. I really appreciate it.

 
Nearly two weeks had passed since Legolas had arrived in Lothlórien and 
now it was time to set out again. 
 
The prince had bid Goel and the guards farewell a few days before, as they 
had already left for Mirkwood. Legolas, on the other hand, and a score of 
elves from Lórien, had readied their steeds and were preparing to depart 
when the Lady of Lórien called to him. 
 
“Legolas, may I speak to you for a moment?”
 
“Aye, Milady,” Legolas said, turning to face Galadriel.
 
“It was very nice to make your acquaintance. I hope that you and the other 
warriors have a safe journey to Rivendell.”
 
“Thank you, Lady Galadriel. I enjoyed my stay here and am very glad that 
the council meeting went so well. Mirkwood has endured in solitude for so 
long. It will be nice to have closer ties with our brethren here.”
 
“I agree,” Galadriel said. “We look forward to a renewed kinship with the 
elves from the distant Wood and hope that our newfound acquaintance 
will not diminish again.”
 
“That is my wish as well,” Legolas said.
 
“Prince Legolas, may I speak freely with you about something personal?” 
 
“Of course.”
 
“I have never seen Elladan so happy in all of his years and I know that his 
recent joy is because of you.”
 
Legolas’ face flushed lightly, but he tried to maintain his dignity by 
continuing to look into the Lady’s eyes. “Then his happiness must mirror 
mine, as I grow to love Elladan more and more each day.”
 
“I know,” Galadriel said, smiling. “Your heart is pure and your words ring 
true which is why I must ask something of you.”
 
“Very well,” Legolas said, intrigued by whatever it was that Galadriel was 
going to say to him.
 
“I understand that you have a unique gift, the ability to communicate with 
animals.”
 
“Aye, Milady.”
 
“Then you must understand that great responsibility is associated with rare 
powers such as these.”
 
“I do.”
 
“Good. As you know, I have the gift of foresight, and yet my vision is 
dimmed in the midst of free will; I cannot see everything. I am only 
graced with what I assume I am supposed to see and thus, have a message 
for you.”
 
Legolas waited patiently for Galadriel’s counsel, and had to stop himself 
from shifting impatiently when she paused for a moment.
 
“When the time comes, I want you to tell Elladan that the consequences of 
anger are far more grievous than the causes of it.”* 
 
Legolas stared at Galadriel, pondering her words briefly before speaking. 
“I do not understand. Why will I need to say this to Elladan?”
 
“I do not have all of the answers; I do not understand my vision. I can only 
tell you that he will need these words of wisdom. Do not forget them for 
his life may depend on it.”
 
“But… how will I know when I am to say this to Elladan?” Legolas asked, 
dismayed.
 
“You will know when the time is right,” Galadriel reassured.
 
“Legolas?” Elladan called. “Are you prepared to depart?” 
 
“Aye,” Legolas said, turning to look at Elladan. He set his eyes upon the 
Lady of Lórien once more and looked deep into the depths of her azure 
orbs. Making a fist with his right hand and placing his knuckles against his 
chest the prince remarked, “Your monition has not fallen upon deaf ears. I 
will heed your words of wisdom; I swear it.”
 
Galadriel smiled. “Farewell, Prince of the Emerald Wood. Be safe.”
 
“Farewell, Milady.” Legolas bowed and turned to leave. He mounted his 
steed and looked back to where the Lady had been standing, but she was 
there no longer.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
  
Thranduil felt a smile touch his lips as he, two of his sons and a small 
band of warriors entered the borders of Rivendell; he was looking forward 
to seeing Elrond again. The king inhaled the crisp air and looked carefully 
at his surroundings. Large trees seemed to stretch endlessly into the 
distance and the smell of the forest permeated his senses. A gentle wind 
caressed his face as his hair swirled about him in a golden cloud of silky 
strands. 
 
His mind was swept away on the breeze – his thoughts were led to Elrond. 
How he longed to hold the Lord in his arms, to caress his skin, to taste his 
lips. But Elrond wanted to be friends and Thranduil had to respect that, 
even if he didn’t want to. He couldn’t risk losing Elrond, not again. 
 
Thranduil awakened slowly from his dream-like state when he heard the 
sound of riders approaching. Slowing his mount and holding his head 
high, the king of Mirkwood waited for the head of the border patrol to 
speak.
 
“King Thranduil, ‘tis a pleasure to see you again,” Glorfindel said, bowing 
his head. 
 
“It is nice to make your acquaintance again as well,” Thranduil replied.
 
“Welcome one and all to Rivendell. I am Glorfindel, head of the border 
patrol in this realm. If it pleases you, I shall lead you to the House of 
Elrond. What say you, Sire?”
 
“Please, lead the way.”
 
Glorfindel bowed his head again and nudged his steed gently. The horse 
moved forward and the group of elves from Mirkwood followed behind 
obediently.
 
Thranduil’s mind slipped away again but this time a feeling of dread 
washed over him, sweeping away the longing that he had felt only 
moments before. The king closed his eyes and tried not to think about his 
desire to pursue Elrond; he silently reminded himself that the Lord didn’t 
want him… didn’t need him… he only wanted to be friends. He opened 
his eyes slowly and was surprised to see that the dense forest had parted 
and that the territory of Rivendell was sprawled before him. He looked at 
the various structures that were spread throughout the beauteous realm and 
smiled faintly; Rivendell was stunning. 
 
Each dwelling boasted of the delicate and ethereal architecture for which 
Rivendell was famous, having gossamer strands of wood fitted 
painstakingly to the trim of each residence. It was like lace that had been 
draped over every domicile by the Valar, making each home look warm 
and inviting and yet unearthly in their resplendence. Sitting against the 
many hills and rocky crags, the smaller homes seemed to pay homage to 
their leader who was perched above them. 
 
Thranduil shifted his gaze and focused his attention on the most 
commanding residence of them all. There, looking down graciously at its 
charges was the house of Elrond. The manor was quite large, but despite 
its copious appearance, a genuine kindness seemed to radiate from the 
structure. It did not stand before the masses and magnanimously boast its 
leadership. Instead, the house of Elrond seemed to stand before its charges 
with open arms, accepting instead of rejecting, serving instead of ruling.
 
Glorfindel slowed his steed and nodded to a servant standing in the 
entranceway of the manor. The female disappeared for a moment and 
returned with a great host of laborers behind her. They stood, like soldiers, 
seemingly awaiting a command. 
 
On cue, Lord Elrond appeared. He emerged from the manor and smiled 
brilliantly. He was wearing leggings that were sable in color and a deep, 
plum colored tunic. His hair was worn in the traditional Rivendell style – 
pulled back on both sides, with his hair gathered, in the back, with a small, 
ornamental clasp. 
 
Thranduil frowned and wondered why the male elves from Rivendell did 
not fashion their hair in the way of Mirkwood warriors. He thought that 
strands of braided hair was quite becoming and wondered if he should 
suggest it to the lord. But then, unexpectedly, their eyes met. And in that 
brief moment in time, volumes were spoken. Thranduil could feel his 
breath catch in his chest and hoped that Elrond had not gleaned the power 
of mind reading in all of his years as a healer of heart and body. For if the 
Lord possessed such a power, the king’s thoughts would certainly reveal a 
desire that was as far and as wide as the whole of Middle-earth. 
 
“Welcome to Rivendell. I am Lord Elrond and will be your host for the 
duration of your stay here in Imladirs. We are very pleased that you have 
come this day and would like to make your stay as comfortable as 
possible. I know that your journey has been very long and that you must 
desire a bath, a warm meal and the comfort of a soft bed. Thus, I will 
refrain from long introductions and other formalities. Instead, take some 
rest. There will be plenty of time for all of us to become acquainted over 
the next few months.” Elrond stopped speaking and looked into the 
distance. A rider was cantering toward them.
 
Glorfindel nudged his steed and rode toward the approaching border 
patrolmen and stopped so that he and the guard could speak. Nodding 
slowly, Glorfindel rode back toward the group of elves in front of the 
manor and the guardsman went back in the direction from whence he 
came.
 
“Lord, a band of elves have been seen heading in this direction,” 
Glorfindel said. “It is the company from Lórien; they are nearly two 
leagues off.”
 
“Splendid,” Elrond said, smiling, turning to face his guests. “There will be 
a grand feast tonight in honor of all of our guests. I hope that you will 
come. Rooms have been readied for all of you in one of the guest estates 
that is located nearby. Please allow my aides to assist you.”
 
Without any further instruction, the servants were upon them. Some 
politely urged the guests to dismount so that they could station the horses 
in one of the stables, while others led the fatigued warriors to their 
bedchambers.
 
The king longed to speak to Elrond but didn’t want to be too aggressive, 
and was too proud to act desperate. After all, he was royalty.
 
“Thranduil,” Elrond said, approaching the king. “It is very good to see you 
again.”
 
“’Tis good to see you too,” Thranduil said warmly. “How are you and 
yours?”
 
“They are well,” Elrond said. “Arwen has been busily preparing for the 
upcoming competition and Elladan and Elrohir left more than a month ago 
to journey to the land of Lórien.”
 
 “Indeed? Did you know that Legolas journeyed to Lórien? He was there 
at my request as an ambassador for Mirkwood,” Thranduil said.
 
“Aye,” Elrond replied. “Legolas sent word. And thus Elladan decided to 
travel to Lórien to surprise the prince.”
 
“So the lovers have finally been reunited,” the king said thoughtfully. “It 
is just as well. Although Legolas wore the face of a warrior who was not 
forsaken, I knew that he yearned for your son. I am glad that they are 
together once again.”
 
“As am I,” Elrond said. “Especially because, unlike Legolas, Elladan did 
not hide his displeasure at being separated from the prince. He has sulked 
ever since Legolas left this realm.”
 
Thranduil smiled faintly and shook his head. “You have raised your 
children in a way that is unknown to me. It is my hope that I will have the 
opportunity to become more acquainted with them while I am here.”
 
“I would like that as well.” 
 
Thranduil smiled.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
“Legolas,” Elladan said quietly, moving his steed close to the prince’s. 
“I… that is to say… I…”
 
“Yes?” Legolas asked, noticing the nervousness in Elladan’s voice.
 
“I… I have been trying to ask you for days, but… well, we keep getting 
interrupted,” Elladan continued.
 
“Ask me what?” Legolas asked, leaning close to Elladan, unable to hide 
his curiosity.
 
“I… I… I was wondering…”
 
“Welcome one and all to Rivendell. For those of you who do not know 
me, I am Glorfindel, head of the border patrol in this realm. If it pleases 
you…”
 
“Oh, stop your blather,” Elladan said in annoyance. “Glorfindel we all 
know who you are. Please do not bore us to tears with this speech. It is 
only Elrohir and I and the uninteresting elves from Lórien. They are going 
to lose the competition anyway, so just save you speech for someone 
important… like the elves from Mirkwood. They are going to lose, too, 
but I wouldn’t want you to offend my future father-in-law.”
 
A few elves in the group chuckled. Haldir looked particularly annoyed and 
cast Elladan a look of disdain.
 
Glorfindel glared at Elladan and continued speaking. “If it pleases you, I 
shall lead you to the House of Elrond. What say you, Lord Celeborn?”
 
“Aye, please lead us into the realm.” Celeborn gave Elladan a reproachful 
look and rode beside Glorfindel. Exchanging niceties, the Lord of Lórien 
and the chief of the Rivendell border patrol set off.
 
“Elladan, mind your attitude in front of Grandfather,” Elrohir scolded. 
“Lest the sharpness of your tongue do us harm and have us bathing steeds 
for a week!”
 
“I will not hold my tongue when I am correct,” Elladan said stubbornly. “I 
did not wish to listen to Glorfindel’s long-winded speech. Even though we 
have reached the border of Rivendell, we must still travel into the heart of 
the realm. If Glorfindel had continued to flap his lips, we could have been 
here all the livelong day! I am tired and wish to take some rest… not listen 
to needless prattle from an ancient elf.”
 
“You are in a fell mood this day,” Elrohir said, casting his older brother a 
caustic look. 
 
“He just needs some **rest**,” Legolas said, catching Elladan’s eye and 
grinning.
 
Elladan smiled sheepishly.
 
“Ah, so you wish to taste of the Rivendell fruits,” Ulan said when he 
overheard and correctly guessed the nature of Elladan and Legolas’ 
conversation. “I do not blame you. The twins are quite handsome… and 
virile. And I suspect that they would be great lovers. Prince Legolas, you 
should use your rank to coerce Elrohir to join you as well,” he looked at 
Elrohir and smiled, “And… I believe that I am free this evening, too.”
 
Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas exchanged looks.
 
“Are you speaking to us?” Elladan asked, glaring at Ulan. “Because if you 
are, you must not place very much value on your life.”
 
“I am afraid of you no longer, warrior elf,” Ulan said. “I have learned the 
art of swordsmanship and am not afraid to lift it in self defense.”
 
“Ulan, the only sword that you can lift is the one between your legs,” 
Elladan spat.
 
Elrohir and Legolas laughed.
 
“Did you not hear what Elrohir said only moments ago?” Elladan asked. “I 
am in a fell mood and do not want to associate with the likes of you. Flee 
from me, at once. U-l-a-n! U-l-a-n!”
 
“What do you mean, Ulan, Ulan?” Ulan asked nervously.
 
“It means **U** should **leave** before I **annihilate** you in the 
**near** future!” Elladan hollered.
 
Legolas roared with laughter and Elrohir nearly fell off his horse as his 
whole body shook with glee.
 
Ulan nudged his steed and rode ahead quickly, not daring to look back in 
Elladan’s direction.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Elladan entered his bedchamber and smiled; it was good to be home. 
Placing his knapsack on the bed, he began to unpack his belongings. 
Suddenly, he sensed someone’s presence and looked toward the door 
expectantly – it was Legolas.
 
“May I enter?” the prince asked.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, returning his attention to the task at hand. 
 
“My father asked about you,” Legolas said, smiling. 
 
“That’s nice. Perhaps your father and I can speak **before** I kill 
Glorfindel,” Elladan said coolly. “That way, he will not see the elder’s 
blood upon my clothes.”
 
Legolas gave Elladan a look of disbelief. “Why do you wish to inflict 
harm upon Glorfindel? He is very kind and doesn’t seem to deserve such 
enmity.”
 
“Oh, he deserves it,” Elladan spat. “I cannot believe that he did not tell me 
that the elves from Mirkwood had already arrived… not to mention the 
fact that he interrupted our conversation. Luckily, I was on my best 
behavior upon entering the realm. But what if I had been jesting? What if I 
had tried to shoot and kill Ulan? His blood would have gotten all over the 
lovely flowers that Arwen planted; they would have been ruined. And 
what would the king have thought if he saw the damaged petals? He 
would have thought that the inhabitants of this realm couldn’t grow 
flowers. Do you not recall our first meeting? I believe that Arwen, Elrohir 
and I were covered in mud. I do not want to make a bad impression on the 
king again, lest he changes his mind about our arrangement.”
 
“He will not change his mind,” Legolas said, moving closer to Elladan. 
“Now that he and Elrond have become reacquainted, he believes that ours 
is an excellent match. I must say that I agree with him wholeheartedly.”
 
Elladan smiled faintly and looked at the prince nervously. “Now that we 
are alone, perhaps I can finally ask you…”
 
“Yes?” Legolas asked eagerly. 
 
“I… I…” Elladan paused for a moment and took a deep breath, exhaling 
slowly, he continued. “I know that you have a room in the Westward 
Manor along with the other elves from Mirkwood. But I was 
wondering…”
 
“Wondering?” Legolas asked, moving closer to Elladan when he paused.
 
“I wanted to know if you would like to stay here… with me?” Elladan 
asked. “You can still have your room in the other manor,” he added 
quickly, “but… I… I want you to be with me; I need you to be with me.”
 
Legolas smiled. “Why would you hesitate to ask me that? Of course I will 
stay with you. Now that we are in Rivendell, I plan to spend much of my 
time in this room anyway,” he added, grinning.
 
Elladan stared into Legolas’ eyes for a moment and then looked away.
 
“I meant no offense,” Legolas remarked. “I was only jesting.”
 
“I know,” Elladan said softly.
 
“What ails you?” Legolas asked, sensing his lovers’ uneasiness.
 
“Nothing,” Elladan said, avoiding the prince’s eyes. “It is just as Elrohir 
said. I am in a fell mood this day, that is all.”
 
Legolas cast Elladan a skeptical look and placed his hand underneath the 
dark-haired warrior’s chin, turning it gently so their eyes would meet. “I 
cannot force you to share your heart with me, nor would I want to if you 
do not chose to do so. But please know that I cherish you more than 
anyone else in Middle-earth and am here for you, whether or not you 
would choose to disclose the contents of your heart.”
 
“I…” Elladan stammered. “I… can’t, Legolas.”
 
“Very well,” Legolas said. “If you will not confide in me then perhaps 
there is something I can do to lighten your mood.” The prince never 
removed his hand from Elladan’s face. Instead, he cupped it gently as he 
drew near. Gazing into the gray depths of Elladan’s eyes, their lips met in 
a tender kiss.
 
Elladan moaned softly as Legolas moved closer to him, gently caressing 
his face.
 
Legolas deepened the kiss by parting Elladan’s lips with his tongue. 
 
Elladan trembled when he felt the prince’s warm tongue dart into his 
mouth and swirl around gently, drawing pleasure from the very core of his 
being. He could feel his body ache as desire swept over him. 
 
Legolas ran his fingers through his lover’s dark mane, pulling him close, 
wanting, needing to feel Elladan’s lips pressed firmly against his. When he 
heard Elladan moan, the prince allowed his hands to slide down his lover’s 
back. He grabbed the dark-haired warrior’s waist firmly and moved his 
mouth to the tender flesh of Elladan’s neck.
 
“Legolas…” Elladan whispered, unable to stay still as his body trembled 
with desire.
 
The prince nuzzled Elladan’s neck affectionately with his nose and then 
placed his lips upon it again, sucking languidly. 
 
“Oh, please,” Elladan pleaded softly, raising his head to allow the prince 
easier access to his skin.
 
Legolas inched his way up Elladan’s throat slowly, kissing his way to the 
warrior’s earlobe. Drawing it into his mouth, the prince smiled when he 
heard a strangled moan escape Elladan’s lips. He moved his mouth 
upward flitting his tongue over the sensitive tip of Elladan’s ear. 
 
“Ai, Legolas. You are killing me,” Elladan said breathlessly.
 
“You promised me, in Lórien, that I could have you when I chose… and 
have you I shall. Your killing has only just begun,” Legolas said 
seductively, “as I plan to reclaim each month that we were apart.” With 
that he placed his lips upon Elladan’s once again, wanting to make the 
Rivendell elf surrender to him. He removed his hands from Elladan’s 
waist and let them move even lower, skimming the apex of his buttocks.
 
“Legolas,” Elladan hissed, moving away from the prince quickly.
 
Legolas sighed and sat down on Elladan’s bed, annoyed that someone was 
drawing near.
 
“Legolas!” Tialise shrieked as she Zera and Arwen entered the 
bedchamber. “How have you been? We missed you terribly.”
 
“I missed you as well,” Legolas said, rising from the bed and embracing 
the young she-elf. “And how are you, Arwen and Zera?”
 
“Very well,” Zera said, embracing Legolas firmly. “We have missed 
spending half of each day with you. Things were not the same once you 
left for Mirkwood.”
 
“Things changed for me as well,” Legolas admitted. “I made so many 
friends here that, although I was glad to be in Mirkwood, I longed to 
journey back to Rivendell.”
 
“Well, you are back now,” Arwen said as Zera stepped aside, “and for that 
I am truly grateful.” Arwen wrapped her arms around Legolas’ waist and 
kissed his cheek lightly. Releasing the prince, she stared at him. “You look 
very well.”
 
“I am very well,” Legolas said, smiling.
 
“Have you continued with your needlepoint?” Arwen asked. “I have 
learned a new technique and would like to show it to you… if you’d like 
to see it.”
 
“Of course,” Legolas beamed. He looked toward the door when Elrohir 
entered.
 
“Why don’t we break away for a few moments before the feast,” Arwen 
suggested. “It shan’t take very long, and I suspect…”
 
“I can’t believe you Arwen!” Elladan yelled, glaring at his sister. “The 
prince has just barely arrived and you are monopolizing his time!”
 
“I am not!” Arwen snapped. “I just want to spend some time with Legolas. 
Is that too much to ask?”
 
“Yes,” Elladan said coolly. “I refuse to share him this time. Before, I had 
no claim on the prince, but now he is mine.”
 
Legolas raised his eyebrows in shock.
 
“He is not a beast of burden and cannot be owned,” Arwen snapped. 
“Legolas is my friend, too and I shall spend time with him whenever he 
chooses.”
 
“Then methinks that you are going to be very disappointed, Arwen, as 
even my horse wouldn’t want to be alone with you!” Elladan sneered. 
“Perhaps, if you try to behave more becomingly, I could convince Goel to 
gallop here from Mirkwood. You remember Goel; he came here with King 
Thranduil many months ago. He may be willing to take you on a trip to a 
distant land… he may even be willing to listen to your endless chatter 
about sewing all day and night, I care not. But Legolas is to be wed to me, 
not you. So, you will just have to learn to limit your boring discussions. 
Unless, of course, you wish to discuss the eating of various grasses. I am 
certain that Goel would be very interested in a topic such as that and may 
even be able to give you a few tips on how to grow a nice meadow.”
 
“You are very selfish, Elladan!” Arwen shrieked. “You have already spent 
nearly a month with the prince and I haven’t gotten to see him at all.”
 
“I haven’t had the chance to see him either,” Elladan said flatly. “While in 
Lórien, Legolas spent most of his time doing his father’s bidding, and the 
rest was spent in the company of various elves who drooled all over all 
over him much in the way that you do.”
 
“You are the most ill-mannered, crude, hateful…” Arwen spat, taking a 
step toward Elladan.
 
“Ignore him, Arwen,” Elrohir said, stepping in between the arguing 
siblings quickly. “Elladan has been in a dreadful mood all day and cannot 
be held accountable for his words.” 
 
“Humph,” Arwen said, folding her arms across her chest indignantly. 
 
“I believe that Legolas was attempting to **lift** our brother’s spirits just 
as you came into the room. Isn’t that right, Elladan?” Elrohir asked, 
grinning. “Perhaps that is why our older brother’s mood has become even 
more crass as of late.”
 
Elladan felt his face turn crimson when he met his brother’s mocking stare 
but was relieved when none of the females seemed to notice the taunting 
tone in Elrohir’s voice.
 
“Oh, I am sorry,” Arwen said regretfully. “I did not realize that the two of 
you were having a private conversation. I guess in our anxiousness to see 
the prince, we did not consider that you might want to spend some time 
alone with him. We shall take our leave now.”
 
“Wait,” Legolas said, looking at his female friends. “I would very much 
like to see your needlepoint and would like to spend some time with you. 
Just allow Elladan and me to spend some time together first. Can I meet 
with all of you tomorrow around midday?”
 
“Aye,” the females chorused.
 
“Good, then it is settled,” Legolas said, smiling.
 
Arwen, Zera, Elrohir and Tialise headed for the door when Elladan 
decided to speak. “Arwen, I am sorry for shouting; it was uncalled for.”
 
“If someone had barged into my bedchamber and tried to take my love 
from me, methinks that I would have shouted, too,” Arwen said gently. 
“There is no reason to apologize.”
 
“I disagree,” Elladan said, walking over to his sister and wrapping his 
arms around her. “I have been very irritable this day and wrongfully 
loosed my feelings on you.”
 
“Say no more,” Arwen said sincerely, “for you must spend time with the 
one you love. Go, he is waiting.”
 
Elladan kissed Arwen on the forehead ad watched her depart. Turning to 
face Legolas, he shrugged. “It would seem that my terrible mood is still 
present.”
 
Legolas grinned wickedly and walked to where Elladan was standing. “I 
have the power to rid you of it. Let us continue getting reacquainted.”
 
“But it is flaccid,” Elladan said pitifully, looking down at his crotch.
 
Legolas laughed. “It won’t be for much longer,” he took a step forward 
and then froze when he felt someone approaching.
 
“Legolas,” Dace said, looking into Elladan’s bedchamber, “Father wishes 
to speak with you.”
 
“I will be right there,” Legolas said, trying to hide the irritation in his 
voice. The prince knew that he could delay meeting with Arwen for a 
while, but his father would not tolerate such a thing. 
 
“It would seem that becoming reacquainted will have to wait,” Elladan 
said.
 
“Aye.”
 
“Well then,” Elladan said pensively, “I will see you at the feast tonight.”
 
“Until tonight,” Legolas said. Sighing heavily, he turned and left the room.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Legolas and Dace entered their father’s bedchamber, stopping abruptly 
when they heard him speaking.
 
“Do you wish to return to Mirkwood?” Thranduil asked his second-born 
son, giving him a threatening look.
 
“Nay, Father, I do not,” Makail replied, avoiding his father’s eyes.
 
“Then I suggest that you stop behaving like a love-sickened child and act 
like a prince from Mirkwood. You are a representative of the realm I rule 
and of me. If you cannot act as such, I will have no choice but to send you 
from whence you came.”
 
“I understand,” Makail said, meeting Thranduil’s eyes slowly. “I will 
portray Mirkwood in a way that will make you proud.”
 
“Good,” Thranduil said, turning his attention to Legolas and Dace. “Little 
One, although we spoke briefly earlier, I called upon you, once again, so 
that we may speak about your journey to Lothlórien. I wish to know the 
outcome of the council meeting that was held there before I speak to Lord 
Celeborn. It is my understanding that he is here.”
 
“Aye, Father,” Legolas said. “He is here.”
 
“I will introduce myself to him at the feast this night as the King of 
Mirkwood and as your father… since you are to wed his grandson,” 
Thranduil explained. “Thus, I will need some insight into the character of 
the Lord of Lórien, in the hope that stronger ties will ensue as a result of 
your marriage and of our newfound kinship.”
 
“Aye, Father,” Legolas said. “Do you wish to discuss this now?”
 
“Actually, I am going to meet Swain in the study downstairs for a moment 
to discuss tonight’s affair,” Thranduil said. “I also want to remind him, as 
well as the other warriors from Mirkwood, that I have high expectations of 
them while they are here and will not tolerate any foolishness that would 
make Mirkwood look less than outstanding. Please give me a few 
moments alone with Swain and then come to the sitting room. I will be 
waiting.”
 
“Aye, Father,” Legolas said.
 
Thranduil nodded his head and left the room.
 
Makail sat down on a nearby chair and frowned.
 
“Are you alright?” Dace asked his older brother, concerned.
 
“Aye,” Makail replied, gloomily. “I am just lonely. Danal and I were 
supposed to compete together at the competition, but now… now that we 
are no longer together...”
 
Legolas placed his hand on Makail’s shoulder. “I know that your parting 
with Danal has been very difficult, but perhaps something good will come 
of all of this.”
 
“Like what?” Makail asked. “I have already angered Father. If I cannot 
control my emotions, Father will send me back to Mirkwood. On the other 
hand, if I remain here, I must forfeit my unhappiness lest I bring shame 
upon the kingdom. What am I to do? It would seem that no matter what I 
do, Father would be displeased.”
 
“Relax and enjoy your time here,” Dace encouraged. “Do not think about 
your sorrow. Do not dwell on the past. Father may be a bit angry, but he 
loves you, Makail, and wants the best for you. So, eat, drink and be merry. 
Take pleasure in the glorious realm.”
 
Makail sighed.
 
“So, Legolas…” Dace began slowly, “have you seen Lady Tialise?”
 
“Aye,” Legolas replied. “I am surprised that you did not see her when you 
came to Elladan’s bedchamber… Tialise had just left.”
 
“Nay, I did not see her, but perhaps it is for the best,” Dace said handing 
Legolas a small pendant. “What do you think?”
 
“It is lovely,” Legolas replied.
 
“I wish to present this to Tialise tonight at the feast,” Dace said, “but I am 
very nervous. What if she rejects me?”
 
“She won’t,” Makail said, smiling faintly. “The last time that I saw her, 
Lady Tialise seemed to be quite enamored with you. I am certain that your 
gift will greatly please her.”
 
Dace beamed and placed the tiny trinket in a small box.
 
“I’d better go and meet with Father,” Legolas said, walking to the door. 
He looked back at Makail’s saddened face and smiled. “Cheer up, Makail, 
everything will be just fine, you’ll see. Rivendell is where my heart was 
mended and I am sure it will be the same for you.”
 
“I hope so,” Makail said glumly as Legolas left the room.
 
 
--- 
 

 
Chapter 4: Celebration   
 

A/N: Thanks so much to my betas, Chan and Uilani. You are 
terrific.


 
Nighttime fell in Rivendell, casting a veil of darkness 
over the realm. 
 
Attendants rushed about the garden adjacent to the manor, 
putting the finishing touch on the decorations and 
preparing themselves to greet the guests that would soon be 
arriving. 
 
Lord Elrond was the first to arrive and smiled upon 
entering the garden gate; Arwen had outdone herself. Large 
tables occupied one corner of the garden, bedecked with 
platters upon platters of roasted meats, fresh vegetables 
and baked bread. The other tables boasted of sweet cakes, 
cream pies and other delicacies that would surely make the 
visitors’ mouths water. 
 
Empty tables were scattered throughout the garden adorned 
with white tablecloths and ornate plates, goblets and 
eating utensils. And upon the center of each table sat a 
large illuminated candle that cast an ethereal glow across 
the eating area. Even the chairs looked stunning, outfitted 
with pale ribbon that was threaded through the intricate 
woodwork on the back of each chair.
 
The trees bore the same ribbon as the chairs, which were 
somehow laced through the branches but still managed to 
hang down like a glorious web of tendrils. They swayed 
hauntingly in the wind, beckoning the guests that were now 
arriving.
 
Elrond looked up at the sky and was grateful that the moon 
was full this night, as it assisted in illuminated the 
garden even more, shining it’s effervescent light upon the 
grounds. 
 
Several musicians arrived and began playing a soft, 
rhythmic melody that wooed the senses and enchanted the 
mind. The ethereal melody perfectly mirrored the beauty of 
the garden.
 
As the guests arrived, Elrond greeted them warmly even 
though his mind was preoccupied. He couldn’t help but to 
wonder where Thranduil was. He tried to push these thoughts 
from his mind, to argue within himself that his interest in 
the king’s whereabouts was based purely on curiosity. But 
he knew that he was lying to himself. 
 
Whenever he saw Thranduil, he could feel his body ache with 
desire and yet his yearning felt like a betrayal somehow. 
When Areen died, the King of Mirkwood was made free of his 
martial commitment, but was he truly liberated from his 
commitment to Celebrían? When she left for the Undying 
Lands, she renounced their marital bonds, giving Elrond her 
permission to love another. But the lord wondered what 
would happen when he set his eyes upon the fair-haired 
beauty that had once been his wife. For unlike Areen, 
Celebrían was very much alive and Elrond hoped to journey 
to Valinor one day; he would see Celebrían again. What 
would that mean if his heart and body were committed to 
someone else?
 
“Father? Father, are you alright?”
 
Elrond was startled to see all three of his children 
staring at him, looks of concern etched across their faces.
 
“I am sorry, I was… lost in thought,” Elrond stammered. “I 
am well. Arwen, the garden looks magnificent; you did a 
wonderful job with the decorations.”
 
“Thank you,” Arwen said, smiling.
 
“Good evening,” Ellaria said politely as she approached, 
avoiding Elrohir’s eyes.
 
“Good evening,” Elrond, Elladan and Arwen chorused.
 
“Hello, Ellaria,” Elrohir said softly, unable to hide the 
hurt in his voice.
 
“Hello, Elrohir.”
 
“You look beautiful.”
 
“Thank you,” Ellaria said, meeting Elrohir’s eyes and 
smiling faintly.
 
“May I sit with you this night?”
 
Ellaria hesitated and nodded slowly. “Of course.”
 
Elrohir offered his arm to the she-elf, and guided her into 
the garden.
 
“Good evening, all,” Celeborn said as he entered the 
garden. “How are you this night?”
 
“Very well,” Elrond replied.
 
“Hello, Grandfather,” Arwen said, hugging the elder. “You 
look very handsome.”
 
“Thank you,” Celeborn said. “And you look very beautiful, 
yourself. I will have to keep a close watch on you this 
night in the hope that I may frighten off potential 
suitors.”
 
“Grandfather!” Arwen exclaimed playfully.
 
“Arwen!” Zera called. “I have been looking for you. Mander 
saved us a seat, come quickly.”
 
“Alright,” Arwen said cheerfully.
 
“Oh, begging you pardon, sirs,” Zera muttered, bowing 
politely. “Good evening Lords Celeborn and Elrond. Hello, 
Elladan.”
 
“Good evening to you, Zera,” Elrond said. “That is a 
fetching gown that you are wearing.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
“Zera, let us away before we lose our seats,” Arwen said. 
“Goodbye Father, Grandfather.”
 
“Have a good time tonight,” Celeborn instructed as the 
females departed. He smiled and placed his hand on the 
shoulder of his eldest grandchild. “Hello, Elladan. 
Elladan?”
 
Elladan scanned the garden thoroughly, searching every 
face; he was looking for Legolas.
 
“Elladan?” 
 
“Huh? What? Did someone call my name?” Elladan asked, 
confused, looking from his father to his grandfather.
 
“I only wanted to bid you good tidings,” Celeborn said.
 
“Oh,” Elladan remarked, barely paying attention to his 
kindred as he allowed his eyes to sweep across the grounds 
once more. He looked at his grandfather and smiled faintly 
and then felt his jaw drop when Legolas rounded the corner.
 
Legolas looked simply beautiful; his hair was fashioned in 
the way of Mirkwood warriors and looked luminous in the 
pale moonlight. His deep blue tunic mirrored the hues of 
his eyes and his handsome face made everyone else look 
repulsive by comparison.
 
“Good evening, Lord Elrond,” Dace and Makail said in 
unison.
 
Elladan tore his eyes away from Legolas for a moment in 
shock. He hadn’t even realized that the youngest prince’s 
brothers had accompanied him through the entrance of the 
garden gate.
 
“Hello, Prince Makail and Prince Dace,” Elrond said, 
bowing. “Allow me to introduce Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien. 
Celeborn this is Prince Makail, Thranduil’s’ second-born 
son and Prince Dace, the king’s third-born son. I regret 
that you will not get to meet Prince Joren, the crown 
prince. He is acting as the King of Mirkwood while his 
father is here.”
 
“It is a pleasure to meet both of you,” Celeborn said, 
bowing. 
 
“And you,” Makail said as he and Dace bowed. “Legolas spoke 
very highly of the Golden Wood. Perhaps, with your 
permission, we could venture there someday.”
 
“It would be an honor,” Celeborn said, bowing again.
 
Legolas, ignoring the conversation around him, looked 
Elladan up and down, admiring the way his grey tunic and 
charcoal colored leggings clung to his body. “Good evening, 
Elladan,” Legolas said softly, unable to hide the huskiness 
in his voice.
 
“Good evening,” Elladan whispered, suddenly incapable of 
speaking any louder.
 
“Prince Legolas, it is very good to see you again,” 
Celeborn said, smiling.
 
“Yes, ‘tis a pleasure to see you, too,” Legolas said, 
bowing. “Hello Lord Elrond.”
 
“Hello,” Elrond said, placing his hand affectionately on 
the prince’s shoulder. “You have been sorely missed.”
 
“Thank you,” Legolas said. 
 
“Um… good… good evening, Prince Dace,” a tiny voice said.
 
“Tialise,” Dace said, smiling brightly. He bowed deeply to 
the young she-elf and stared at her in adoration. “You look 
lovely.”
 
“Thank you,” Tialise said, blushing furiously.
 
“May I show you to a table, Milady?” Dace asked politely.
 
“Yes,” Tialise replied, nodding shyly.
 
Dace grasped Tialise’s hand gently and led her into the 
garden. 
 
Makail watched his younger brother depart and frowned.
 
“Oh, hello Glorfindel,” Elrond said, smiling at his old 
friend.
 
“Hello, Elrond. Greetings, Lord Celeborn. It is nice to see 
you once again.” Glorfindel bowed deeply to the Lórien 
ruler. 
 
“Such formality is not necessary,” Celeborn said, placing 
his hand on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “You are of noble blood 
and are the oldest, and wisest elf I know. Your long years 
surpass mine and Galadriel’s.”
 
“That is true,” Glorfindel remarked pensively, “but I do 
not govern a realm. You deserve to be treated like a 
ruler.”
 
“Nay,” Celeborn said, smiling. “I deserve and desire to be 
treated like your friend.” 
 
Glorfindel nodded and smiled.
 
“Good evening, Lords,” Haldir and his brothers chorused 
bowing to Celeborn and Elrond.
 
“Good evening,” the lords said.
 
“Hello, Glorfindel,” Haldir said enthusiastically. “’Tis a 
lovely night.”
 
Elladan furrowed his brow at the excited tone of Haldir’s 
voice and smiled faintly. He wondered about the nature of 
the chief marchwarden’s eagerness. 
 
“Aye,” Glorfindel remarked, without looking at Haldir. “The 
feast will be starting soon. Shall I get a table for we 
elder elves?”
 
“That is a good idea,” Elrond said.
 
Glorfindel nodded and looked at Makail. “Prince Makail, 
with whom are you dinning this evening?”
 
“I am alone,” Makail said, unable to hide the sullen tone 
of his voice.
 
“Nay,” Glorfindel said. “Come and dine with us.”
 
“Very well,” Makail said, following Glorfindel to a table 
in the distance.
 
Haldir frowned and Elladan tried not to laugh; it would 
seem that the usually stoic marchwarden from Lórien was 
smitten with the oldest elf in Middle-earth.
 
“Elladan?” Legolas whispered. “Let us dine quickly so that 
we can partake of **dessert**.”
 
Elladan smiled and led the prince to the table where Dace 
and Tialise were sitting.  
 
Haldir and his brothers followed Elladan and Legolas, 
deciding to join them at their table. 
 
Elrond walked behind Glorfindel, Celeborn and Makail and 
found himself searching the large crowd of elves for the 
king. Suddenly, Elrond found his attention drawn to the 
entranceway of the garden when silence crept over the 
realm; King Thranduil had arrived.
 
The king was the most beautiful elf at the party; there was 
no question in anyone’s mind of this. His golden hair was 
worn differently this night. Instead of the three-braided 
style that was commonplace among the Woodland elves, 
Thranduil had adopted a new style. His hair was worn down 
except that the sides were pulled back into a single plait 
and tendrils of loose hair framed his face. His under tunic 
was as silver as the stars above and his over tunic was as 
black as the sky. His leggings perfectly matched his over 
tunic and made his already muscular frame seem even more 
sculpted. The rays of the moon shone upon him almost 
magically, making him look more like one of the Valar 
instead of a king.
 
Elrond stood abruptly, willing himself to walk steadily. He 
could feel everyone’s eyes upon him as he approached the 
king. 
 
Thranduil looked at the garden and smiled at the beautiful 
décor, but nothing could have prepared him for the most 
striking decoration at the feast – Elrond. He tried to 
ignore the pounding of his heart when the Lord of Rivendell 
approached. 
 
“Good evening, King Thranduil,” Elrond said. 
 
“Good evening, Lord Elrond. May I join you?”
 
“Of course.”
 
Thranduil followed Elrond to the table that housed 
Glorfindel, Makail and another elf of seemingly noble 
birth. He wondered if this was the Lord of Lothlórien.
 
“King Thranduil, may I present to you Lord Celeborn of 
Lórien. Lord Celeborn, this is King Thranduil of Mirkwood,” 
Elrond said politely.
 
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Celeborn said, rising to 
his feet and bowing. 
 
“The pleasure is mine, Lord Celeborn,” Thranduil said, 
bowing. “My son, Legolas, spoke very highly of you and of 
the generous hospitality that you, and the Lady of Lórien, 
bestowed upon him while he was in the Golden Wood.”
 
“It was our pleasure,” Celeborn said sincerely. “Prince 
Legolas is a fine, young prince and an admirable 
ambassador… not to mention the fact that he is promised to 
my eldest grandson; he is welcome anytime he chooses. And 
that invitation is not restricted to your youngest son. You 
and your other children are invited as well.”
 
“I am honored,” Thranduil said, bowing again. 
 
Celeborn waited until the king had been seated before 
sitting down. He watched Thranduil carefully, admiring the 
way in which he carried himself; the king was calm, refined 
and possessed a charisma that made him difficult to ignore.
 
In no time, polite conversation began at the royal table 
and Makail felt his spirits rise. In the midst of such 
honorable elves, he found it difficult not to take pleasure 
in hearing about the goings on in Lórien and Rivendell. He 
especially appreciated the way that Glorfindel and Celeborn 
kept him involved in the conversation by asking for his 
opinion on various topics. He couldn’t help but notice, 
however, the way his father kept looking at Lord Elrond and 
wondered about the origin of strange tension between them.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
  
“Makail!” Dace hissed, motioning to his older brother. 
“Makail, come hither.”
 
Makail smiled politely and nodded at various guests as he 
made his way through the crowd.
 
Dinner had already been served and hordes of elves were 
making their way to the dessert table. Others were 
discussing the upcoming competition, and some desperately 
tried to decide whom the handsome elf in black was.
 
“What is it?” Makail asked, annoyed.
 
“Why are you so cross?” Legolas asked, furrowing his brow. 
“Has Elladan’s fell mood taken hold of you, too?”
 
“Hey!” Elladan exclaimed, shoving Legolas playfully.
 
“I just wondered why you did not sit with us,” Dace said. 
“There is a seat here if you would like to join us.”
 
“No thank you,” Makail responded. “I am very much enjoying 
myself.”
 
“Indeed?” Dace asked in shock.
 
“Aye,” Makail said. “And why is that so hard to believe? I 
am in the presence of some very interesting company.”
 
“Like who?” Elladan asked. “You are in the presence of the 
most elderly and most boring elves in all three realms… 
with the exception of King Thranduil, of course,” he said 
looking at Legolas quickly, making sure not to insult the 
king.
 
Elrohir chuckled and nodded in agreement. 
 
“I concur, there is nothing dull about the king,” Orophin 
said as he, Rúmil and Haldir joined the small group. “He is 
one of the most beautiful elves that I have ever seen.”
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, looking in Thranduil’s direction, “he 
is very handsome. But methinks that Legolas is fairer than 
his father.” 
 
Legolas stared at Elladan, who was still looking in the 
king’s direction, surprised that the Rivendell elf would 
make such an admission in front of their peers. His 
surprise, however, did not stop him from smiling with 
appreciation at the compliment.
 
“I do not see what they mean, do you Dace?” Makail asked 
his younger brother.
 
“Of course I do! I have been told that I look very much 
like Father. I never really believed it until this very 
moment,” Dace remarked.
 
Everyone present laughed.
 
“Look!” Elladan said, pointing at the king. “It would seem 
that we are not the only ones who admire King Thranduil’s 
beauty.”
 
Legolas looked at his father, unsure of what Elladan was 
speaking; he didn’t notice anything odd. His father was 
standing before the desert table, eyeing each pastry 
carefully when Ulan approached. Legolas gasped. “Oh no. 
Nay, this is not good.”
 
“Why not?” Dace asked. “Who is that?”
 
“You do not want to know,” Legolas said, watching in 
horror.
 
“He is a simpleton,” Elladan said, grinning. “And I cannot 
wait to see what the king is going to do to him. I wonder 
if he will let us watch if he decides to kill Ulan?”
 
Legolas, Elrohir and the elves from Lórien laughed, while 
Makail and Dace looked on curiously.
 
“Ulan is from our realm,” Rúmil explained to Dace and 
Makail, “and prefers the art of making love to the art of 
making war. He is an agreeable fellow, once you get to know 
him, but has a penchant for being a bit vulgar upon meeting 
new and attractive elves.”
 
“Come, let’s get closer,” Elladan said, moving forward.
 
“Nay,” Legolas said, shaking his head. “Father will not be 
amused by Ulan’s forwardness. Their altercation will be 
unpleasant and I do not want Father to see me lurking 
around in the shadows.”
 
“Nor do I,” Dace agreed.
 
“You go, if you wish,” Makail said, “but we are going to 
stay here. If Father caught us, the punishment would be 
severe and swift.  We want nothing to do with this folly.”
 
“It is your loss,” Elladan said. “This will be the jest of 
the millennia. Elrohir, Haldir, Rúmil, Orophin, are you 
coming?”
 
“Nay,” Haldir said, “I do not wish to anger the king. Go on 
without me.”
 
“Weakling,” Elladan said. “Orophin, Rúmil, Elrohir are you 
coming?”
 
“Aye,” the three elves chorused. 
 
Walking casually toward the king, the four elves stopped, 
pretending to inspect a tree that was only a few feet from 
Thranduil and the elf from Lórien.
 
“Hello, Handsome,” Ulan said, looking Thranduil up and down 
without shame. “You must be one of King Thranduil’s sons. I 
am Ulan… the… the head marchwarden of Lothlórien.”
 
Rúmil and Orophin exchanged disbelieving looks while 
Elladan and Elrohir tried to stifle their laughter.
 
“I must say that you certainly know how to make an 
entrance. You are one of the most attractive elves that I 
have ever seen,” Ulan commented. “Your brother, Legolas, is 
very fair as well, but his temperament could use some 
refining.”
 
“Is that a fact?” Thranduil asked, looking at Ulan 
carefully.
 
“Aye,” Ulan said, nodding. “But I can tell that you are 
older than he, because your bearing is more like the 
king’s. You know that Thrandy and I have known one another 
for many years.”
 
Thranduil raised his eyebrows in shock while Elladan, 
Elrohir, Rúmil and Orophin chuckled softly in the distance.
 
“Poor Thrandy,” Ulan said, shaking his head slowly. “I am 
certain that the loss of the queen must have been 
devastating. It must have nearly broken his heart and 
yours, too. But do not fret, fair prince, I can help you. 
Times like these call for nurturing and tenderness. I can 
provide you with both.”
 
Thranduil exhaled audibly and folded his arms across his 
chest.
 
“Do not fret, I will be gentle… at first,” Ulan said, 
completely ignoring the expression of disgust on the king’s 
face.
 
“And, regarding your father, I will make sure that my old 
friend does not escape me unaided,” Ulan continued. “He 
needs a strong elf to tend to his carnal desires, someone 
who is not afraid to touch his loins…”
 
“Thranduil,” Elrond said, interrupting Ulan as he 
approached. 
 
“Yes, Elrond.”
 
Ulan’s jaw dropped and Elladan buried his face on Elrohir’s 
shoulder, unable to stifle his laughter any longer. 
 
Elrohir covered his mouth with his hand, desperately trying 
to hide his mirth.
 
Rúmil punched Orophin’s shoulder when he laughed loudly, 
even though he was chuckling softly, himself. 
 
“Begging your pardon for the interruption, but I would like 
to present you and Celeborn to the assembly.”
 
“I will be there in a moment,” Thranduil said sweetly, 
waiting for the Lord of Rivendell to depart. As soon as 
Elrond was out of sight, the king rounded on Ulan. “What 
would you like to do to my loins?”
 
“Uh… you… you are… uh… the king?” Ulan stammered. 
 
“You should know,” Thranduil said, glaring at Ulan. “After 
all, according to you, we are very dear friends.”
 
“Oh, Sire,” Ulan said, chuckling nervously, “I was only 
jesting. You see I am the Lórien jester.”
 
“Indeed?” Thranduil said in mock surprise. “You must be 
very busy then, since you are also the chief marchwarden of 
Lothlórien as well.”
 
“I… I… uh…” Ulan stammered.
 
“There is no need to try to think of more falsehoods,” 
Thranduil said simply, “for you have only told me one truth 
this night. You are most certainly the jester of Lórien as 
only a fool would dare speak to me the way you have.”
 
“Sire, Sire… I…” Ulan pleaded.
 
“Ulan, please spare yourself more humiliation by keeping 
your mouth shut,” Thranduil snapped. “I am going to walk 
far away from you now in the hope that our paths do not 
cross again.” With that, the king stalked away, making sure 
to glare at Elladan and his comrades as he strode toward 
Elrond and Celeborn.
 
“Oh no,” Elrohir hissed, elbowing his twin. “The king is 
looking at us.”
 
Elladan looked up and stopped laughing at once, as did 
Rúmil and Orophin. They watched the king with fright until 
he stood next to Elrond before the large crowd of elves.
 
“May I have your attention please,” Elrond said loudly. “If 
you would all take a seat, I would like to introduce you to 
some of our distinguished guests.
 
Elladan and his friends rushed over to their table and sat 
down.
 
“Where is Makail?” Elrohir asked looking around.
 
“He went back to his table,” Dace replied. “So, was the 
jest worthwhile?”
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, “until the king saw us.”
 
“Father saw you?” Legolas asked, dismayed.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, crestfallen. “And he did not seem 
amused.
 
“Elladan,” Legolas said in annoyance, shaking his head.
 
“Thank you,” Elrond said when everyone had taken their 
seats. “As you already know, I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell 
and I am honored that all of you are here. I am sure you 
are well aware of the fact that a common foe has brought us 
together, and that enemy is the orc. The monsters have been 
a plague upon this land… a nightmare that we cannot awaken 
from. And each realm has felt their evil as we have lost 
loved ones because of their abhorrence for anything that is 
good.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir looked at one another across the table.
 
Legolas watched them curiously.
 
The twins didn’t speak; they just stared at one another as 
if they were communicating in some sort of voiceless 
language. Nodding slowly, they turned their attention back 
to their father.
 
“But, through this loss, our realms have come together, not 
in hatred, but in friendship,” Elrond explained. “This 
competition has not been put in place to demonstrate which 
realm is better. Its purpose is to allow us to become 
familiar with one another and can be something that we can 
discuss for years to come.”
 
Thranduil smiled faintly at Elrond’s words in silent 
disapproval of his last statement. The competition was not 
what brought the elves together.
 
“Now, I would like to present Lord Celeborn,” Elrond said, 
motioning to his right. “Many elves from Rivendell have met 
the leader of the Golden Wood as he has come here on many 
occasions. However, for those of you who do not know him, I 
encourage you to introduce yourselves. He has a wealth of 
knowledge and a kindness that surpasses many. I am certain 
that he would be delighted to make your acquaintance.”
 
The crowd applauded politely while Celeborn smiled.
 
“To my left is an elf that few in this realm have met,” 
Elrond began, looking at Thranduil. “This is King 
Thranduil, ruler of Mirkwood.”
 
The crowd began to whisper anxiously and look at one 
another in either surprise or confirmation. 
“For many millennia, the Woodland Realm has been alienated 
from both Rivendell and Lórien, but no longer,” Elrond said 
warmly. “New alliances have been formed and 
misunderstandings eradicated. Let us welcome the king and 
three of his four sons who are here, as well as all of our 
guests from distant realms. Eat, drink and be merry this 
night and most importantly enjoy one another’s company. For 
times such as these call for great celebration.”
 
The crowd clapped loudly.
 
Elrond bowed graciously and began to walk among the people, 
the musicians began to play an upbeat score and hordes of 
elves rushed up to where the king was still standing.
 
Females knelt before Thranduil’s feet, presenting their 
unwed daughters, while widowed dames explained that they 
needed the love of a strong and noble warrior. The king 
smiled politely and bowed, barely able to speak as more and 
more elves pressed toward him. He couldn’t breathe; the 
crowd was swallowing him whole.
 
“Step aside at once!”
 
Thranduil heard a voice, commanding the elves to move.
 
The king could see a mass of elves walking toward him. 
 
Glorfindel, Haldir, Mander, Zera and Swain were pushing 
their way through the crowd. Each elf was on the border 
patrol of one of the three realms and knew how to look 
extremely intimidating if need be. 
 
“Are you alright, Sire?” Swain asked with concern.
 
“Aye,” Thranduil said. “Swain, if you could keep the host 
at bay, I will take my leave now.”
 
“As you wish, your highness,” Swain said, turning to the 
crowd and shouting commands to them.
 
Thranduil used this distraction to escape over the barrier 
that enclosed the garden. Without looking back, he made his 
way to a large tree behind the manor and pressed his back 
against it. He could still hear the roar of the crowd in 
the distance.
 
“You certainly know how to disrupt a party,” Elrond said, 
coming into view.
 
“It is your fault,” Thranduil said coolly, without moving 
from his position. “After all, it was you who said ‘let us 
welcome the king.’ It would seem that you are a very 
persuasive leader, as your people are most anxious to 
follow your commands. Now, every unmarried elf in your 
realm has set their sights on me.”
 
“And how is my speech to blame?” Elrond asked, standing 
before the king. “If my memory serves me correctly, I 
recall that it has always been this way for you. When I 
went to Mirkwood to learn the art of healing, females came 
from near and far to court the son of Oropher, Crown Prince 
Thranduil. You should be used to this by now.”
 
Thranduil gave Elrond an exasperated look and sighed. “You 
never get used to it. And do not forget that I have been 
married for many millennia. I was harassed no longer once I 
was wed to Areen. But now that she is gone… I suppose the 
title of queen is very appealing to some.”
 
“At least you have beautiful females throwing themselves at 
your feet, begging to be with you,” Elrond said. “I am the 
ruler of this realm and can count the offers that I have 
received on one hand.”
 
“That is surprising,” Thranduil said, “as I find you to 
be…”
 
“What?” Elrond asked when the king hesitated.
 
“Nothing,” Thranduil said quickly, scolding himself for 
speaking too quickly. He reminded himself that if he chose 
to flirt with the Lord of Rivendell that their friendship 
could be lost. He would just have to learn to bite his 
tongue in the future.
 
“Nay, tell me,” Elrond said, moving even closer to the 
king.
 
“Well…” Thranduil began, trying to think of something to 
say. “Perhaps you get less offers than I because yours are 
sincere. Females only desire me because I am a king. They 
do not want to marry me; they are only impressed with my 
title. I am simply a way to acquire notoriety,” he said a 
bit sadly.
 
“That is not true,” Elrond said, touching Thranduil’s 
shoulder. “You are perfect in every way. I can only hope to 
possess half of your charm, your power and your fairness of 
face. When in your presence, one feels as though he has 
looked upon the Valar. Perhaps, your title is attractive… 
but I would imagine that to be loved by one such as you 
would be a special gift indeed.”
 
Thranduil closed his eyes, allowing the weight of Elrond’s 
hand to penetrate his senses; he wished that he could 
freeze time and embrace the moment forever. Opening his 
eyes slowly, he looked at the lord in dismay. “If I have 
the love of one thousand elves, and their adoration is true 
then I would be considered lucky by most. But if I do not 
love any of them… what difference does it make? If my heart 
is bound to one elf, and he… or she… does not share my 
affection, then I am not as fortunate as it would seem.”
 
“You are right. But I do not believe that will be your 
fate. You will love and be loved again.” Elrond removed his 
hand from the king’s shoulder and smiled. “Well, I must 
away. Glorfindel and the others are probably looking for 
me.”
 
“Yes,” Thranduil said, nodding. “I shall see you tomorrow.”
 
“Aye,” Elrond said, bowing. The lord walked away, heading 
for the feast.
 
The King of Mirkwood was left alone. Thranduil watched 
Elrond as he walked away. *You are wrong, Elrond. It is my 
fate to never have the one I love. For my heart belongs to 
you.*
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
The confusion that surrounded the king had ceased. Now the 
elves were chatting merrily among one another while others 
took to the center of the garden to dance. 
 
“Do you think that your father is alright?” Elladan asked 
Legolas with concern.
 
“Aye, I am sure he is fine.”
 
“I have never seen anything quite like that,” Elladan said, 
dismayed.
 
“Nor have I,” Legolas admitted. 
 
“Legolas… I…” Elladan stammered.
 
“Aye?” 
 
“May we go somewhere alone? I wish to speak to you.”
 
“Alright,” Legolas replied. 
 
Elladan grasped the prince’s hand and led him out of the 
garden. In no time at all, they were heading into the 
entrance hall of the manor. Guiding Legolas up the stairs, 
Elladan escorted the prince to their bedchamber. 
 
Legolas smiled upon entering the room, it felt so familiar. 
He studied the large bed, the dresser and then the large 
terrace door. 
 
Elladan was standing in the doorway of the terrace; the 
light of the moon outlined his frame. He allowed the night 
air to caress his face as he listened to the haunting 
melody and the distant chatter from the ongoing 
celebration. Without turning to face the prince, he spoke. 
“I apologize for my unpleasant disposition earlier today. I 
wish that I could explain.”
 
“There is no need,” Legolas said gently. “Sometimes when I 
awaken in the morn I am irritable; it is normal.”
 
Elladan sighed and continued to stare out into the night. 
“Legolas… may… may I be candid?”
 
“Of course,” the prince responded, a bit taken aback by the 
serious tone of Elladan’s voice.
 
“I feel… that I do not know you,” Elladan began slowly. 
“You have changed so much since your time here.”
 
“I have?” Legolas asked, approaching Elladan.
 
“When you were here before, you were akin to a wounded 
animal. You needed constant care. And even when you went 
back to Mirkwood, your heart was very fragile; it still 
needed to be handled very gently. Now… now… you seem so… 
so…”
 
“So?” Legolas asked, standing behind Elladan.
 
“So much better,” Elladan said, still looking straight 
ahead. “You do not need me now. And perhaps… you will 
discover… that you no longer want me.”
 
“How could you say such a thing?” Legolas asked, placing 
his hand on Elladan’s shoulder. The prince stepped in front 
of the Rivendell elf and stared into his eyes. “How long 
have you felt this way?”
 
“Since I saw you in Lothlórien,” Elladan admitted. “It was 
that, more than anything else, that kept me from you while 
we were in the Golden Wood. I… I just had to be sure…”
 
“Sure of what?”
 
“That you really want to be with me. That you… that you 
really care for me.”
 
“I love you. That will never change,” Legolas said, never 
releasing Elladan’s gaze.
 
“Can you promise that to me?” Elladan asked.
 
“I already have,” the prince responded, touching Elladan’s 
chest and gently fingering the engagement gift that he had 
given to the warrior a few months before. 
 
Elladan smiled faintly.
 
“You seem so sad,” Legolas said, stroking Elladan’s cheek 
gently. 
 
“My mind is muddled with various thoughts,” Elladan 
explained. “I am fine.”
 
Legolas nodded, even though he knew that his lover wasn’t 
telling him the truth. 
 
A beautiful melody began to play in the background, 
sweeping through the bedchamber.
 
“May I dance with you?” Legolas asked.
 
Elladan smiled sincerely. “Aye.”
 
The prince pulled Elladan into a tight embrace and moved 
slowly to the haunting sound of the music. 
 
Elladan’s eyes were closed. He allowed the prince to guide 
him around the dance floor. He could feel Legolas’ body 
moving against his and gasped when the prince’s lips 
brushed against his. Elladan opened his eyes, slowly, as if 
awakening from a dream.
 
“May I show you?” Legolas whispered, gazing into the depths 
of Elladan’s eyes.
 
“Show me what?” Elladan asked, perplexed.
 
“How much I love you,” Legolas said, unable to hide the 
lust in his voice.
 
Elladan smiled and nodded. He looked toward the terrace 
when he heard applause emanating from outside and then 
looked at the prince when a new song began. 
 
Legolas extended his hand.
 
Elladan took the prince’s hand and they began to dance 
again slowly.
 
Legolas pulled Elladan close, brushing his lips across the 
dark-haired warrior’s ear. “I want you,” he whispered.
 
Elladan let his eyes slip closed and gasped when Legolas 
began to lick the tip of his ear languidly.
 
They moved across the bedchamber slowly, still dancing in 
perfect rhythm to the enchanting melody. 
 
Legolas wanted to ravish Elladan now. He brushed his lips 
against his lover’s slowly; his body was trembling with 
desire. 
 
Elladan couldn’t breathe; all he could do was feel. His 
heart was pounding in his chest and his body yearned for 
the prince’s touch.
 
Legolas grazed his mouth against Elladan’s again, and then 
allowed his tongue to gently trace the outline of his 
lover’s lips.
 
Elladan pushed closer to the prince and parted his mouth, 
silently begging Legolas to kiss him.
 
The prince smiled when he saw the lust etched across 
Elladan’s face. He loved pleasuring the Rivendell warrior 
and wanted their lovemaking to last for as long as 
possible. Still moving to the rhythm of the music, Legolas 
met Elladan’s lips, stroking his back gently.
 
Elladan moaned softly and pulled the prince closer to him, 
deepening the kiss. He slid his tongue into Legolas’ mouth 
and gasped aloud when the prince shifted suddenly, brushing 
against his throbbing member.
 
Legolas looked at Elladan a bit startled when he drew his 
breath in so suddenly. But once he realized the source of 
Elladan’s abrupt action, he decided to pleasure him even 
more. 
 
The prince broke the kiss and smirked when Elladan made a 
petulant sound of protest. Ignoring Elladan’s contention, 
Legolas allowed his hands to slide down the front of the 
dark haired warrior’s tunic and stopped on top of Elladan’s 
hardened member.
 
“Ah…” Elladan groaned as the prince began to stroke him 
gently. He closed his eyes, unable to think of anything 
else but the pleasure he was feeling.
 
The prince stopped his ministrations abruptly and began to 
unfasten Elladan’s tunic.
 
Elladan shoved the prince’s hands away, pulling his tunic 
over his head and tossing it on the floor in a moment’s 
time.
 
Legolas laughed.
 
Elladan smiled sheepishly and pulled the prince into a 
tender embrace. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you.”
 
“I know,” Legolas said, holding Elladan in his arms. “I 
love you, too.”
 
Before Legolas could say anything else, Elladan claimed his 
lips in another impassioned kiss. Caught off guard, the 
prince surrendered completely to his lover’s contact, 
allowing his hands to fall to his sides of their own 
volition. 
 
Elladan slid his tongue into the prince’s mouth and then 
pulled away, placing his lips on the tender flesh of 
Legolas’ neck.
 
“Oh, Elladan,” Legolas murmured, breathlessly, “please 
touch me.”
 
Elladan continued to kiss the prince’s throat and moved his 
hands underneath Legolas’ tunic, stroking his back gently. 
“As you wish,” he said softly, looking in the prince’s 
eyes. With nimble fingers, Elladan began to remove Legolas’ 
tunic.
 
The prince didn’t object to what Elladan was doing and 
didn’t offer to help, either. Instead, he watched his 
lover’s hands undressing him and felt his desire escalate 
to unbelievable heights. He imagined Elladan’s long fingers 
stroking his member firmly and closed his eyes to try to 
regain control of his senses.
 
Elladan removed Legolas tunic and stared at his bare chest 
hungrily. He touched one of the prince’s nipples and smiled 
when he heard Legolas moan and felt it harden. Moving his 
hands lower, Elladan could feel the softness of the 
prince’s skin as well as the sculpted firmness of his 
abdomen. He found the dichotomy of the prince’s body very 
alluring and wanted to rediscover everything that made him 
writhe with desire. With that in mind, he met the prince’s 
lips in a gentle kiss and moved his mouth downward to 
Legolas’ Adam’s apple, sucking and licking slowly.
 
Legolas could feel his heart pounding in his chest and 
tried to hold still while Elladan moved his mouth from his 
neck to his collarbone. “Ai, Elladan,” he heard himself 
mutter when his lover nibbled his skin seductively.
 
Elladan loved it when Legolas said his name in the heat of 
passion and wanted to hear it again and again. Bent on this 
new mission, he moved down lower and drew one of Legolas’ 
nipples into his mouth, licking slowly.
 
Legolas closed his eyes and arched his back, throwing his 
head back as Elladan tormented him. He moaned when his 
lover moved his mouth to the other aching nipple and grazed 
it lightly with his teeth.    
 
Elladan moved lower once again, kissing his way down the 
front of Legolas’ body. He paused at the prince’s navel and 
inserted his tongue into it, licking playfully.
 
Legolas squirmed and chuckled, giving Elladan a derisive 
look when he raised his head for a moment and met the 
prince’s eyes. 
 
Elladan lowered his head again and moved down even lower 
until he was even with the prince’s crotch. Placing that 
palm of his hand over the mound in Legolas’ breeches, he 
stroked the prince gently.
 
Legolas’ breath became uneven as Elladan caressed his 
member deftly. He could feel his knees weaken when Elladan 
touched the tip of his pulsating need and rubbed it slowly.
 
Elladan looked up at Legolas when he swayed suddenly and 
became concerned that the prince would eventually collapse 
if he continued at his current pace. Rising to his feet, 
Elladan stood before the prince and rubbed the tip of his 
nose against Legolas’. 
 
Without speaking, Legolas took Elladan’s hand in his and 
led him to the bed. Never breaking their gaze, Legolas 
removed his leggings.
 
Elladan was the first to look away, staring at the prince’s 
body in awe. The moonlight shone in the room illuminating 
it just enough for Legolas to look like some beauteous, 
unearthly creature. He felt his breath catch in his throat 
when he beheld the prince’s enormous, hardened member. He 
closed his eyes briefly, remembering how it felt when 
Legolas moved within him, making his entire being scream 
with pleasure.
 
Legolas watched Elladan admire him and smiled; he liked the 
way that his lover looked shrouded in darkness, unseen 
except for the grey depth of his eyes glowing in the dim 
light of the moon. Legolas stepped forward and placed his 
hand on the waistband of Elladan’s leggings, tugging 
firmly.
 
Elladan assisted the prince, helping him to remove his 
breeches and tossed them aside with haste.
 
Legolas looked lustfully at Elladan’s naked body for a 
moment and ushered him into the bed.
 
Elladan climbed into the bed and was pleasantly surprised 
when the prince got under the sheets and on top of him, 
spreading his legs wide open and sliding in between them. 
“Legolas… please…” he pleaded when the prince rubbed their 
members together firmly. 
 
More music began playing outside again but this time the 
tune was a bit more upbeat.
 
“Ah!” Elladan exclaimed when the heads of their penises 
rubbed together. He tangled his hands in the prince’s hair 
and arched his back when Legolas moved his pelvis to the 
rhythm of the music and devoured his mouth at the same 
time. 
 
Elladan could feel his release nearing and pushed Legolas 
away quickly.
 
The prince looked into Elladan’s eyes, for an explanation 
and nodded slowly when he understood their silent answer. 
Giving Elladan a few moments to compose himself, Legolas 
stroked his lover’s hair.
 
Elladan kissed the prince on the forehead and nodded, 
caressing his chest gently.
 
Legolas began kissing Elladan’s neck and inched his way 
down slowly. 
 
Elladan writhed with pleasure and gasped every time Legolas 
touched, licked or sucked one of his pleasure points.
 
Finally arriving at Elladan’s member, Legolas didn’t 
hesitate but put it into his warm mouth, sucking hungrily.
 
“Ai, ai Legolas,” Elladan moaned, trying desperately to 
still his rotating hips.
 
The prince enjoyed the way that Elladan tasted and took as 
much of Elladan in as he could. He licked the tip gently, 
circling his tongue around it over and over again, smiling 
when he heard Elladan whimpering. Deciding not to bring his 
lover to release just yet, he removed Elladan’s member from 
his mouth and inched his way back up the Rivendell elf’s 
body.
 
Elladan kissed Legolas quickly and sat up. Pushing the 
prince onto his back, he moved his mouth directly to the 
source of Legolas’ pleasure – his penis. Stroking it gently 
Elladan bean nibbling the tip gently with his teeth.
 
“Elladan… Elladan!” Legolas called out, tossing his head 
back and digging his fingers into the bed.
 
Elladan moved his mouth up and down the prince’s length 
firmly and felt Legolas shudder.
 
“Nay, not yet,” the prince said, breathlessly. “I want to 
make love to you. Come here.”
 
Elladan removed Legolas’ member from his mouth and allowed 
the prince to push him onto his back.
 
Legolas looked around the room for a moment and then stared 
at Elladan in dismay.
 
Elladan smiled and opened the nightstand drawer beside his 
bed. He handed the prince a jar of oil and shrugged when 
Legolas gave him a disbelieving look. “I was preparing for 
your return.”
 
“That was very wise,” Legolas said, grinning. The prince 
put some of the salve onto his fingers and sat in between 
Elladan’s open legs. Placing his right index finger at the 
opening of his anus, Legolas allowed his finger to slowly 
enter the tight hole.
 
Elladan tried to steady his breathing as the prince 
prepared him for the insurmountable pleasure that was to 
come, but wasn’t sure if he was ready for an intrusion such 
as this. It had been several months since he had been 
intimate with the prince and was surprised to find that he 
was more than a little nervous at the idea of Legolas 
thrusting in and out of him.
 
Legolas inserted another finger, stretching Elladan gently, 
and was a bit taken aback by Elladan’s sudden quietness. 
Inserting a third finger he continued his ministrations and 
then removed them, staring at Elladan with concern.
 
Elladan felt the sudden void and looked at the prince 
curiously.
 
“Do you want me to stop?” Legolas asked.
 
“Nay,” Elladan said. “I… I am just… a bit uneasy. It has 
been awhile.”
 
Legolas smiled. “I will go slowly. I promise.”
 
Elladan nodded and watched as Legolas coated his own member 
generously with the ointment.
 
Legolas shifted his body and placed the tip of his member 
at the opening of Elladan’s anus. Pushing forward slowly, 
he entered Elladan.
 
“Ai…” Elladan said.
 
Legolas stopped immediately so that Elladan could adjust to 
him.
 
Elladan clutched the comforter tightly, slowly allowing 
himself to relax. After a few moments his grip loosened and 
he nodded at the prince, silently urging him to continue.
 
Legolas placed his hands on Elladan’s thighs and pushed 
forward slowly once again, stopping abruptly when Elladan 
gasped.
 
Elladan felt a wave of pleasure spread throughout his body 
when the prince’s penis hit the sweet spot deep within him. 
He gave Legolas an encouraging smile, imploring him to 
continue.
 
Once the prince was certain that Elladan was all right, he 
pushed his member all the way inside of his lover. Pausing 
long enough to make sure that Elladan wanted him to go on, 
he began to thrust slowly. 
 
Elladan watched Legolas lying on top of him, moving slowly. 
The image was very erotic. Elladan felt his breath coming 
in short bursts, as with every thrust the prince’s body 
brushed up against his member while Legolas’ penis pressed 
against the pleasure point within him.
 
Elladan’s tightness was driving the prince slowly insane as 
he pumped to the rhythm of the music outside. He closed his 
eyes, enjoying the wet heat that surrounded his member as 
he drove in and out of him more and more frantically as the 
tempo of the melody increased.
 
“Uh… oh, yes,” Elladan moaned when Legolas thrusted against 
his sweet spot over and over again. “Harder… please, 
harder…” he pleaded.
 
Legolas moved faster and faster; he could feel his release 
getting near.
 
Elladan’s was at the brink of orgasm, and closed his eyes, 
trying to hold on to this moment as long as he could. 
Opening his eyes and meeting the prince’s lustful gaze he 
felt his body shudder as he exploded in release.
 
Legolas felt Elladan’s muscles tighten around his penis and 
cried out as he spilled his seed inside of his lover. He 
was breathing heavily and was exhausted. Looking at the 
blissful expression on Elladan’s face, he smiled. Gently 
pulling out of his lover, he reached over and grasped a 
piece of cloth that was on the nightstand. 
 
Elladan opened his eyes and touched Legolas’ face when he 
moved beside him. He took the cloth that the prince 
presented to him and wiped the semen from his stomach.
 
Legolas took the cloth and tossed it on the floor. Drawing 
the covers up around them, he snuggled close to Elladan 
kissing him lightly on the lips.
 
Elladan kissed Legolas on the forehead, pulling him as 
close as possible before drifting off to sleep.
 
Legolas remained awake for a little while thanking the 
Valar that he had found Elladan and that he could be with 
him once again in Rivendell. He knew that nothing could 
ever tear them apart.
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 5: Trouble Lies Ahead
 
 
Elladan awakened the next morning to the smell of freshly baked bread 
and warm apple cider brewing in the kitchen downstairs. He stretched 
languidly and let his eyes fall upon the slumbering beauty next to him – 
Legolas. Elladan stared at the prince’s handsome face unabashedly, 
smiling at his pouty expression. Moving closer to Legolas, Elladan gently 
removed the blanket from the prince’s body so that he could admire his 
beauty more fully. 
 
Legolas was lying on his side, facing Elladan, and stirred slightly when he 
felt a gentle breeze waft across his bare chest.
 
Elladan let his eyes travel down the length of the prince’s body and 
stopped for a moment, gazing longingly at Legolas’ member. He thought 
briefly about the night before, remembering how skillfully the prince had 
used his organ to pleasure him mercilessly. He closed his eyes, letting the 
memories wash over him. Suddenly, he could feel a warm sensation 
pooling in his lower region as an intense arousal took hold.
 
Legolas made an acerbic sound and rolled onto his back, frowning.
 
Elladan paused for a moment and then moved close to the prince, hovering 
over his face. “Legolas?” he whispered. 
 
The prince did not move.
 
“Legolas?” Elladan whispered again. “It is morning.”
 
“Uh,” the prince muttered irritably, shifting his body in a rough manner.
 
“Awaken fair prince,” Elladan said, brushing a stray blonde hair from 
Legolas’ face. “The morning meal has been prepared and I cannot decide 
if I should go and eat or ravish you.”
 
Legolas chuckled. He looked at Elladan and smiled. He rubbed his eyes 
and stretched, yawning sleepily.
 
“Well, what say you?” Elladan asked, running his fingers through the 
prince’s flaxen locks. “Methinks that we are perfectly dressed… or 
undressed, rather, for early morning intimacy. The food is quite tempting 
but not so much as the prospect of riding you like a steed.”
 
Legolas laughed and caressed Elladan’s face. Raising his head up off of 
the pillow, he kissed his lover gently, closing his eyes.
 
Elladan cupped the back of the prince’s head for support, deepening the 
kiss by sliding his tongue into Legolas’ mouth.
 
The prince moaned softly and opened his eyes, breaking the kiss. “Good 
morning, my Elladan. Did you sleep well?”
 
“Quite well,” Elladan said.
 
“And your fell mood, is it gone?” Legolas asked.
 
“Well, that depends,” Elladan said slowly.
 
“On what?” 
 
“The answer to the question that I asked earlier.”
 
“Intimacy or the morning meal?” Legolas asked for clarification.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, nodding.
 
“Well…” Legolas began. “I… I…”
 
“Oh no, you do not feel like being intimate, do you?” Elladan wailed.
 
“Nay, nay it is not that,” Legolas said quickly. “Intimacy sounds 
wonderful. But I… well, I… I promised Arwen, Zera, Tialise and Ellaria 
that I would spend some time with them this morn. I must get dressed at 
once so that I am not late for my meeting with them.”
 
“Uh!” Elladan groaned and flung himself back onto the bed in 
exasperation. “I cannot believe this.”
 
“What?”
 
“That you would pass up the opportunity to wallow in hours of pleasure to 
go and chat with a group of females. Their greatest amusement in life is 
the latest needlepoint techniques and female hair fashions.”
 
“That is not true. Do not forget that Zera is on the border patrol and 
Arwen, Ellaria and Tialise can wield a sword, almost as well as their 
warrior, female companion. And while they enjoy needlepoint, we do not 
always discuss sewing and fashion,” Legolas explained. “You do not give 
your sister and her friends enough credit. They are very interesting.”
 
Elladan shook his head in disagreement and exhaled loudly.
 
“Please do not be angry,” Legolas said, climbing out of the bed and 
pulling his leggings on. 
 
“How can I not be?” Elladan asked, sitting up and looking at the prince. 
“You would rather spend time with Arwen than me.”
 
“That is not true and you know it, Elladan,” Legolas said, putting his 
overtunic on and buttoning it. “I love being with you, but sometimes we 
must commit to other obligations.”
 
“But the mornings used to be reserved for me,” Elladan whined.
 
“I know,” Legolas said. “But I cannot arrange my time the way I did when 
I was here before. The competition will be taking place soon, and much of 
our day will be spent competing against one another. It will be difficult to 
see each other at all then.”
 
“I know,” Elladan said glumly.
 
Legolas began to run through his hair with a wooden comb. He sat on the 
bed and began to braid his hair as he spoke to Elladan. “What if I promise 
that you can have your way with me later on today? Would that please 
you?”
 
“Very much,” Elladan said, cheering up a little.
 
“Good, then it is settled,” Legolas remarked, standing. “Would you like to 
meet me at midday? We can dine and then spend some time alone 
together.”
 
“’Tis a good idea,” Elladan said. 
 
Legolas smiled and eyed Elladan’s bare chest hungrily. “Methinks that 
spending time alone with you will be great fun.”
 
Elladan looked down at his bare chest and grinned. “Aye, it will indeed.”
 
“Until midday,” Legolas said.
 
“Until then,” Elladan said, watching the prince as he exited the 
bedchamber.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Good morning, Sire,” a servant said, bowing deeply when the king 
passed by.
 
“Good morning,” Thranduil remarked, nodding politely to the laborer. He 
exited the manor and inhaled the morning air. Looking around and 
smiling, the king set out, armed with a small knife. He took in the 
beauteous sights of Rivendell as he walked, admiring the large trees and 
the multiple streams. He saw two butterflies dancing together on the wind, 
seemingly enamored with one another as they flitted about frantically. The 
king’s mind drifted to Elrond and he felt his heart leap in his chest. If only 
they were butterflies, he thought, then perhaps they could be together. The 
trappings of royalty and past wrongs would no longer be an issue.
 
Thranduil sighed and bowed politely when he saw a group of females 
staring at him blatantly. 
 
“Hello,” a tall female with long auburn hair and hazel eyes said, 
curtseying deeply.
 
“Hello,” Thranduil said, smiling when the other females spoke to him. The 
king didn’t slow his pace. 
 
The maids swooned under the king’s gaze. Feeling their knees weaken and 
their heartbeats quicken, the females blushed furiously unable to do much 
more than grin foolishly.
 
The king had to refrain from shaking his head in dismay once he had 
passed the she-elves. He could never understand the way elves reacted to 
him or why he was often treated as some sort of oddity instead of just a 
king. He was proud of his title and had worked tirelessly to gain the 
respect of elves from near and far. But sometimes he wished that being a 
king did not set him so far apart from his kindred. As he walked he could 
feel the females’ gaze lingering on him, but he didn’t look back. 
 
He rounded the path and found a clearing encircled by a cluster of large 
trees. Deciding that this was the spot he was looking for, Thranduil 
stepped off of the path and into the forest. Scouring the ground, he 
discovered a large limb that was lying on the ground. Taking it in his 
hands, he sat underneath an enormous oak tree and pulled out his knife. 
Stripping the limb of its bark, the king looked carefully at it and then 
broke the small branches off. Silently, he began to carve the wood.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Thranduil?” Elrond said, entering the grove. “Are you alright?”
 
“I am fine,” Thranduil said, quickly hiding the wooden sculpture and his 
knife behind his back. “Why?”
 
“You were not at the morning meal,” Elrond explained. “I was concerned 
that you were still upset about last night’s uproar.”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said sincerely. “Actually, I rarely partake of the morning 
meal. Usually, I prefer to take a walk each morning to awaken my senses.”
 
“I see,” Elrond said, looking at Thranduil. “May I join you?”
 
“Of course,” Thranduil replied.
 
Elrond sat down on the ground beside the king and flinched when he 
leaned against something that was very hard. “What is this?” he asked, 
reaching behind his back and holding up what he thought was simply a 
long, thick piece of wood.
 
“It is nothing,” Thranduil said, attempting to swipe the limb from Elrond’s 
hands.
 
The lord shifted the wood quickly, thwarting Thranduil’s’ attempt to gain 
access to it, and began to study it carefully. At once, his mouth fell open in 
awe.
 
Etched painstakingly into the wood was the manor of Rivendell in all it’s 
glory. So realistic was the carving that Elrond wondered in amazement if 
the very doors that had been expertly carved into the limb would suddenly 
swing open and his children would appear.
 
“It… it is not very good,” Thranduil stammered.
 
“Not very good?” Elrond repeated in complete shock. “You are right, 
Thranduil, this is not very good. For a work of art such as this could only 
be deemed as greatness. I did not know that your were gifted in the art of 
woodcraft.”
 
“I’m not,” Thranduil said, shrugging. “I have never been formally 
educated in art… except for the appreciation of it. My father forbid me to 
study what he called ‘a frivolous pursuit.’ So, I would hide my carvings. 
No one has ever seen my work… until now.”
 
Elrond smiled. “It is exquisite. In all my years, I do not think that I have 
ever seen woodwork as fine as this. But…”
 
“But?” Thranduil asked.
 
“But why do you still hide your art? Your father died long ago. Now, you 
are king. You should share this with your sons,” Elrond encouraged 
gently.
 
“I cannot,” Thranduil said, shaking his head. “My duty is to my kingdom, 
not to my craft. I do not want to guide my sons’ interests from their royal 
duties to those of… lesser value.”
 
“But your talent is not of lesser value. And if you truly believe what you 
are saying then why do you do it?” Elrond asked.
 
“Because…” Thranduil began slowly. “Because the burdens of being a 
ruler can take a toll after a while. When I fashion something out of wood, I 
can direct all of my thoughts into what I am doing… escape into my 
carving. For a few moments, I am not a king… I am just Thranduil.”
 
“You do not want to be king?” Elrond asked.
 
“I have said too much,” Thranduil muttered, shifting uncomfortably. 
 
“Nay… nay, you haven’t,” Elrond said warmly. “Do not forget, I am a 
ruler, too. I understand the hardship that can be caused when trying to 
command a realm.”
 
“But it was your choice,” Thranduil said. “It was my destiny.” 
 
Elrond pondered Thranduil’s words for a moment in silence, having never 
really contemplated the unfairness of a monarchy. “Did you ever speak to 
your father about this?”
 
Thranduil gave Elrond a disbelieving look. 
 
“I would not have told him my feelings either,” Elrond admitted. “King 
Oropher was a bit intimidating.”
 
“A bit?” Thranduil asked, smiling.
 
“Very well, he could be quite frightening at times,” Elrond said. “But… he 
did love you, Thranduil.”
 
“I know,” the king said, “but he was cruel sometimes.” 
 
Elrond nodded and looked in the king’s blue-green eyes. “You did not like 
your father very much, did you?”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said truthfully. “Father always wanted what he thought 
was best for me. I was the crown prince and he expected me to act as such 
at all times. His praise was unfaltering when I pleased him and his 
displeasure was relentless when I failed him. He was very hard on me, 
believing that his constant scrutiny was a form of love. It is ironic that I 
am much like father in some ways. I am very strict where my children are 
concerned and will not tolerate disrespectful or outlandish behavior. 
Nonetheless, I am quite mild compared to my father.”
 
“I agree,” Elrond said, nodding. “You are not your father. You are a better 
king than he. I have been told that you are greatly loved by your people, 
that you have shown bravery in the face of great peril. Even though you 
may not always like being king, you are good at it.”
 
“It is what I was bred to do,” Thranduil said. “The whole of my life has 
been dedicated to my reign. And under the close watch of my father, you 
tend to learn **very** quickly,” he quipped, smiling.
 
Elrond chuckled.
 
“Now, what I wish to know is how you managed to trick me into self-
disclosure. I have never spoken of this to anyone in all my years and yet 
here I am, sitting on the ground, confessing some of my most personal 
thoughts to you. Tell me, is sorcery akin to your talents as a healer?”
 
Elrond smiled. “Unfortunately not. I think that you confided in me 
because you trust me. You know that I will not reveal what you have said 
to anyone.”
 
“That is true; I do trust you. Of course, you are fully aware of the foul 
temper that I inherited from my father,” Thranduil added, grinning 
deviously. “I would hate to banish you from Mirkwood again, but would 
be forced to if you angered me.”
 
Elrond laughed, as did Thranduil. 
 
The warriors spent the rest of the morning together talking and laughing 
and Thranduil felt extremely disappointed when the sun was high 
overhead signaling that midday had come. He knew that Elrond would 
probably have to take his leave to attend to his own affairs, but he couldn’t 
help but wish that they could spend just a bit more time together.
 
“It is midday,” Elrond announced, almost on cue.
 
“Aye,” Thranduil said, looking up at the sky, cursing it silently.
 
“I must away as I have some matters to attend to,” Elrond announced, 
standing up.
 
Thranduil stood as well, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice as 
he spoke. “Yes, the work of a good leader never ceases. You should be on 
your way.”
 
“Why don’t you join me?” Elrond asked. “I only need to speak to 
Glorfindel about some additional security measures for the competition 
and then would like to partake of the midday meal. I would very much 
enjoy your company… if you do not have plans.”
 
The king could feel his heart leap in his chest but remained calm. “That 
would be nice,” he said nonchalantly. 
 
“Good,” Elrond said, smiling.
 
As the two warriors left the grove together Thranduil looked at Elrond. 
“Thank you for listening to my incessant prattle this morn. As a king, I 
have few friends… save Goel, a constable in Mirkwood.” The king’s 
voice trained off suddenly, as his loneliness took hold.  
 
“I enjoy talking with you, Thranduil. And you could never prattle on about 
anything. I know that this has been a difficult time for you. The loss of 
Areen must have been as difficult for you as it was for Legolas… I know 
how much you cared for her. But… you had to endure -- for the sake of 
your kingdom and your children. You have had to keep so much of 
yourself concealed from others… but you can reveal yourself to me. I 
want to know you -- to be your friend again.” Elrond stopped speaking 
abruptly, suddenly painfully aware of the distant look on Thranduil’s face 
and the sadness in the depths of his eyes.
 
“I…” Elrond began, unsure of what to say. “It would seem that I am the 
one who is babbling unceasingly. I… I am sorry if I… if I offended you.”
 
Thranduil shook his head and smiled faintly. “Your words… your words 
cut like a knife, because they ring so true. I am not offended, only 
saddened that we lost so many years as friends because of my anger 
toward you. I… I am so sorry, Elrond. I know that there is nothing that I 
can say or do to make up for my behavior. To be honest, I do not know 
why you would want to rekindle a friendship with me. If our positions 
were reversed… I do not think that I would be as forgiving as you have 
been.”
 
Elrond stopped walking and gazed into the king’s eyes; he was surprised 
at what he saw. Thranduil stood before him like a child who was about to 
be chastised. There was so much regret, sadness and loneliness in his orbs 
that Elrond felt a deep swell of pity for the king. “Misunderstandings are 
the bane of friendships. You made a mistake… we all do. Do not dwell on 
the past, for errors made then can no longer be undone. Let us deal only 
with the present, so that we may, over time, forge a kinship that will be 
indestructible in the future.”
 
Thranduil nodded. “I would like that.”
 
“As would I,” Elrond said sincerely. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Legolas waved to his female companions, bidding them farewell before 
joining Elladan, Elrohir, Dace, Makail and the Lórien brothers for the 
afternoon meal. Everyone was waiting patiently in the parlor for the 
prince’s arrival. 
 
Elladan watched as the prince approached, gasping softly when he came 
into view. Legolas was so beautiful. He smiled to himself, feeling honored 
that the prince could love him.
 
“Hello,” Legolas said to the group.
 
“Hello,” everyone said, except for Elladan. He was too busy admiring the 
prince to say anything.
 
Legolas looked at Elladan with a genuine look of worry. “Elladan?”
 
Elladan felt his smile widen when he saw the prince’s expression of 
concern. “Hello,” he said, absently caressing Legolas’ face.
 
Legolas leaned in to Elladan’s touch, temporarily forgetting that they were 
not alone.
 
“When the two of you have finished fondling each other can we eat?” 
Elrohir asked in annoyance.
 
Makail, Dace, Rúmil and Orophin laughed.
 
Haldir shook his head in dismay.
 
Elladan’s hand fell to his side at once and Legolas gave Elrohir a shocked 
look. He had never known the younger twin to sound so rude.
 
“Do not mind him, Legolas,” Elladan said, giving Elrohir a reproachful 
look. “Fell moods are catching these days.”
 
Elrohir looked at Elladan disdainfully for a moment and then his look 
softened. Sighing heavily, he bowed his head and stared at the ground.
 
“Elrohir,” Elladan said gently, moving away from Legolas and turning to 
face his younger brother. He placed his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder, “I am 
sorry… I… I know… I… perhaps we should speak in private.”
 
Elrohir nodded is head slowly.
 
“I will be back in a few moments,” Elladan said, looking at Legolas. “Go 
ahead and begin the afternoon meal without us.”
 
Legolas watched as the twins exited the parlor and stood in the 
entranceway of the manor.
 
“What is wrong with Elrohir?” Makail asked, looking at Legolas.
 
“I do not know,” Legolas said, unable to tear his eyes from the identical 
elvish figures in the distance.
 
“He has been… different lately,” Haldir commented. “He seems troubled.”
 
“Dace, do you notice something different about Little One?” Makail 
asked, changing the subject. “Look at his skin.”
 
“What?” Dace asked, confused and then smiled deviously when Makail 
winked. “Yes, I see what you mean. Legolas is glowing. I have never seen 
him look so… radiant.”
 
“Nor have I,” Makail said, smirking. “If it were cloudy outside, perhaps 
Legolas could brighten our day.”
 
Dace laughed.
 
“Huh?” Legolas asked, glancing at Makail.
 
“We were just saying that you are glowing this day. Are you using the 
sageberry cleanser that Mara made on your skin?” Makail asked 
innocently.
 
“Nay,” Legolas said, confused. 
 
“That is hard to believe,” Makail said.
 
“Very hard to believe,” Dace said, nodding his head, trying not to smile.
 
“Why?” Legolas asked, looking from one brother to the other.
 
“Because you look positively radiant. But since you are not cleansing your 
face differently, then perhaps something else happened last night to make 
your face shine,” Makail explained.
 
“He did leave the feast a bit early,” Dace said, looking at his older brother. 
“And when I called for him he was nowhere to be found… neither was 
Elladan.”
 
“Ah!” Makail exclaimed, smiling brightly. “So that’s what it is. You and 
Elladan left the celebration early so that you could show him the sageberry 
cleanser. There is no need to try and hide it, Little One.”
 
Legolas looked up at the ceiling in disgust then glared at his brothers in 
annoyance.
 
“The look on Legolas’ face would suggest that he was not showing 
Elladan how to properly cleanse his face last night,” Dace said, chuckling.
 
“Indeed?” Makail asked in mock innocence, studying Legolas’ face 
carefully. “But what would you and Elladan rather do than to attend a 
glorious feast? What is better than that?”
 
“I am certain that Legolas and Elladan found **something** to do last 
night,” Dace said between chuckles. “And whatever it was, it must have 
been much better than the celebration. Why, if his face shines any 
brighter, we will be able to use him as a beacon late at night.”
 
Makail laughed, as did Dace.
 
Legolas shook his head in dismay.
 
“What is so amusing?” Elladan asked.
 
Legolas looked at Elladan in surprise. He had been so preoccupied with 
his brothers teasing that he had not heard the twins approach. He smiled at 
Elladan and then looked at Elrohir. He noticed that the younger twin 
seemed to be in a better state of mind. He started to speak to Elrohir, but 
his brothers cackling interrupted his thoughts. Legolas sighed and met 
Elladan’s eyes, “We are the source of their amusement. They… they are 
curious as to our reasoning for leaving the feast so early. They want to 
know what could have been more interesting than a realm-wide feast.”
 
Elladan’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed slightly. Within moments, 
however, he had composed himself and was smiling deviously. “I can 
assure you that what Legolas and I were doing was **far** better than 
anything that the two of you were doing last night. Unless, of course, you 
believe that spending time with an elf who is barely old enough to dress 
herself is interesting, Dace. Or in the case of you, Makail, that you 
actually enjoyed your time with elves that are older than the moon, 
especially Glorfindel, then perhaps you are right. What Legolas and I were 
doing was completely and utterly boring.”
 
“Glorfindel is amazing,” Haldir snapped suddenly. “He is fascinating, 
intelligent, witty…”
 
“I was going to tease you about Glorfindel later, Haldir, but your loose 
lips have made it easy for me. I saw the way you were looking at him last 
night; you fancy him, don’t you?” Elladan said, grinning.   
 
Haldir sighed loudly and looked toward the dining hall. “I am famished. 
Let us go and eat.”
 
“Trying to ignore my comments, eh, Haldir?” Elladan asked, chuckling.
 
Elrohir smiled faintly.
 
“Oh, Elladan!” Haldir exclaimed in annoyance.
 
“Jesting is my specialty,” Elladan explained, looking triumphantly at Dace 
and Makail. “You would be wise not to try to best me in a verbal joust, for 
you will surely lose. While your father has been preparing you in the ways 
of royal etiquette, I have honed my skills as a master of wit. As such, you 
should bite your tongue when you feel the urge to tease me, or anyone that 
I hold dear. I will refrain from further mockery at this time, as I prefer to 
taunt Haldir right now. But be warned… I have not jested with you in the 
past out of respect. Legolas is your younger brother, after all. But now that 
we have gotten quite acquainted, I will spare you no more. Yu have been 
warned. ”
 
Makail and Dace shook their heads in dismay when Legolas and Elrohir 
laughed.
 
“You did not answer Elladan’s question, Haldir,” Rúmil said slowly. “Do 
you fancy Glorfindel?”
 
“Nay, nay,” Haldir said quickly. “He is just fascinating, that is all.”
 
Rúmil and Orophin exchanged looks, stared at their older brother for a few 
moments and smiled faintly. They knew that Haldir was lying. 
 
“Let us away to the dining hall,” Elrohir said. “I am hungry.”
 
As everyone began to walk toward the refectory, Legolas placed his hand 
on Elladan’s elbow.
 
Elladan looked at the prince and smiled. 
 
“Is all well… with Elrohir, I mean?” Legolas asked softly, looking at 
Elrohir who was leading them to the dining room. 
 
“He is fine,” Elladan said. “He is in a fell mood, that is all.”
 
Legolas frowned and stared at Elrohir’s back. “He is tense. I have never 
seen him behave that way. Elrohir is always so good natured… it is odd 
for him to be… cross.”
 
“He is just… he is in a bit of a bad way as of late,” Elladan stopped 
speaking abruptly.
 
“Why?” Legolas asked.
 
“I… I cannot say, Legolas. Elrohir has entrusted me with his burden and I 
cannot reveal it… not even to you,” Elladan said apologetically.
 
“I understand,” Legolas said sincerely.
 
Elladan stroked the prince’s cheek and smiled. 
 
Legolas smiled at Elladan and focused his eyes on Elrohir once more. He 
could see the tension in the warrior’s posture and feel something strange 
emanating from him. Was it anger? He glanced at Elladan, and was 
startled when he saw the saddened and distant look in his eyes.
 
Elladan looked at Legolas and smiled brightly, and for a moment, the 
forlorn look withered away. He grasped the prince’s hand, squeezing it 
affectionately.
 
Without warning, a gust of wind swept across the dining hall through the 
multiple, open windows. The breeze made the paisley curtains undulate on 
the air for a moment and then they lay dormant as if the draft had never 
come. 
 
There was something in the wind -- a warning. Legolas could feel it in his 
bones, in his soul. Someone was coming -- today. He would be here before 
nightfall. The prince suddenly found that he could not return his lover’s 
smile for his heart foretold him that trouble was coming.
 
--- 
 


Chapter 6: Enmity in the Air
 
A/N: Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed me. All of you are 
awesome! :)
 
 
The afternoon meal went by quickly. Dace monopolized most of the 
conversation, talking about Tialise endlessly and the pendant he had given 
her.
 
Legolas ignored his older brother’s discussion and watched the twins 
instead. They seemed to be having another one of their wordless 
conversations--staring at one another across the table and occasionally 
nodding or sighing. Something was amiss, and the prince couldn’t figure 
out what it was. It was obvious that the twins had a secret. 
 
“Good afternoon, King Thranduil and Lord Elrond. Good afternoon, 
Glorfindel,” a servant said, bowing deeply as the three elves entered the 
dining hall. “Lord Celeborn is awaiting your arrival in the parlor, where a 
special meal has been prepared for all of you.”
 
“Thank you,” Elrond said, nodding his head in approval. 
 
Thranduil looked around the refectory carefully. This was the first time he 
had seen this room. Elrond had told him that this was the northern dining 
hall and had explained that there was more than one in the manor. It was 
an enormous room, littered with at least twenty beech colored tables. 
Intricately woven wooden chairs flanked the tables on both sides and 
seven windows, which stretched from his waist to the ceiling, spread 
across the wall to his right and to his left. The transoms were decorated 
with long, wispy curtains that floated on the gentle breeze that wafted into 
the room. Finally, his eyes settled on his sons and some other elves sitting 
at a table in the distance. 
 
“Psst, Haldir,” Elladan hissed, “your ancient lover has arrived. Perhaps, if 
you ask politely, he will tell you about the formation of the moon. Since 
he is as old as the craters upon it, you would do well to listen.”
 
Haldir glowered at Elladan who grinned impishly.
 
“Elladan, my father and yours are coming this way. Glorfindel is coming, 
too. Please mind your manners in front of them,” Legolas whispered.
 
“Hello,” Elrond said, approaching the table and smiling at the elves there.
 
“Hello,” the elves chorused, rising to their feet out of respect for the king 
and the lord.
 
“Please sit and enjoy your meal. We will not be here very long. We only 
wanted to see how you are doing this day. Are the princes from Mirkwood 
and the marchwardens from Lórien enjoying their stay?” Elrond asked 
politely as the elves took their seats.
 
“Aye,” Makail answered, speaking on behalf of himself and his brothers. 
“The accommodations are very generous, as is the hospitality.”
 
Thranduil nodded his head in approval at the manner in which his second-
born son had answered the question. 
 
“We agree with Prince Makail’s sentiment, my Lord” Haldir answered for 
the Lórien brothers, bowing.
 
“Indeed?” Elladan said, giving Haldir a skeptical look. “That is not what 
you said earlier.”
 
Legolas felt his heart sink and hoped that Elladan would not jest in the 
presence of his father.
 
Haldir felt his heart nearly stop in his chest, but maintained his composure. 
“Surely you jest, Elladan. My stay here has been quite enjoyable.”
 
“Ah yes, but did you not say that you would love for Glorfindel to tell you 
about the moon? It is my understanding that he knows about many things 
and could educate you on countless matters.” Elladan remarked, smiling 
sweetly.
 
Elrohir coughed, trying to stifle his laughter while Legolas, Dace, Makail, 
Rúmil and Orophin watched in horror.
 
“I know not what you mean,” Glorfindel stated in confusion. 
 
“Do not fret, Elder,” Elladan said, maintaining his charming disposition. 
“What say we all meet at your post after the afternoon meal. I can tell you 
how you can make Haldir’s stay a glorious one.”
 
“Very well,” Glorfindel said, furrowing his brow and looking at Haldir 
curiously.
 
Thranduil looked at the expression on Haldir’s face and noticed the 
longing and horror within his eyes. Of course, the look was intermingled 
with an intense loathing for Elladan at the moment. As always, the eldest 
son of Elrond was acting like a fool. The king then turned his attention to a 
very confused Glorfindel and smiled. Although he disapproved of 
Elladan’s scheme, the king understood what he was trying to do. “Well, 
we should take our leave now. Lord Celeborn is waiting for us.”
 
“Yes,” Elrond said, nodding his head slowly, still unsure of the 
conversation that had occurred between Elladan, Haldir and Glorfindel. 
“We will see you tonight.” With that, the elven rulers and Rivendell’s 
chief marchwarden swept from the room.
 
Suddenly, Haldir stood up so abruptly that the table nearly overturned. 
“Elladan you fool! What are you trying to do to me?”
 
Elladan looked at Haldir in shock and stood up slowly. “I am trying to 
help.”
 
“Help! Help? Help with what? Help me to look like a fool in front of the 
most respected elves in all three realms? Help me to look like a fool in 
front of the one… the one who’s opinion I would hold the most dear?”
 
“Nay,” Elladan said calmly. “I was jesting with you in an attempt to…”
 
“In an attempt to what? You would humiliate me for sport! Do you never 
think of anyone but yourself?”
 
“Be calm, Haldir,” Elladan said, grinning. “After all, because of me you 
will get to meet with Glorfindel later this day. You should thank me.”
 
 “You are beyond reproach! You have no right to meddle in my personal 
affairs.”
 
“Oh, stop your whining,” Elladan said coolly. “You will get no sympathy 
from me. How long have you desired Glorfindel’s touch? Knowing you, it 
has been for a thousand years. You play the role of this fierce warrior but 
are really a coward!”
 
“What did you say?” Haldir asked, his face was red with anger. “I am a 
coward? Where were you after Glorfindel was hurt? Where were you 
when Galvannin fell? I am no coward! You are!”  
 
“Hold your tongue!” Elrohir hissed, rising to his feet. “You will not speak 
about my brother in that way! Elladan was trying to help you, only you are 
too blind to see it!”
 
Dace and Makail exchanged looks while Rúmil and Orophin shook their 
heads in dismay. This argument was getting out of hand.
 
Legolas watched the argument in shock but his curiosity was peaked at 
Haldir’s words. Who was Galvannin? When did Glorfindel get hurt? He 
would speak to Elladan about this later, when they were alone.
 
Haldir leaned forward, tipping the table and causing plates, goblets and 
food to fall upon the floor. “My sight is perfect. In fact, it allows me to see 
that you must come to your brother’s aid when he is too weak to defend 
himself. What else do you do for him, I wonder? Alleviate his desire when 
the prince is not here?” 
 
“How dare you!” Elladan said, lunging across the table at Haldir, but the 
Mirkwood princes were too quick; Legolas and Dace grabbed Elladan by 
the shoulders as a means of restraint and Makail placed his hand firmly on 
Elrohir’s sternum and shook his head in warning. Similarly, Rúmil and 
Orophin had their hands wrapped tightly around Haldir’s arms, just in case 
he decided to attack.
 
“What is going on in here?” Celeborn asked, quickly entering the dining 
hall. The Lord stopped abruptly when he saw that the Mirkwood princes 
were restraining his grandsons and that Rúmil and Orophin were hindering 
an attack by Haldir. The dining table was in disarray. Food, goblets, plates 
and eating utensils were on the floor, as if the table had been shifted 
abruptly. He sighed and walked toward the table slowly, stopping a few 
feet away. “What is the meaning of this? 
 
Legolas and Dace released a red-faced Elladan. Makail, Rúmil and 
Orophin let go of their charges as well. 
 
“Answer me!” Celeborn said sharply.
 
Silence filled the room and only the wind could be heard in the distance. 
The wind… Legolas hadn’t forgotten about it, about the visitor. He felt 
close… very close now.
 
“You have nothing to say? Well, perhaps it is for the best that you would 
bite your tongues, for anything that you would say to me would be of little 
importance at the moment,” Celeborn said. “Elladan, Elrohir and Haldir, 
come forward and stand before me.”
 
The twins and Haldir did as they were told, carefully avoiding one 
another’s eyes.
 
“I know not who is responsible for the dissension between you and to be 
quite honest, I care not.” Celeborn glared at his chief marchwarden. 
“Haldir, you and your brothers are guests here. You were invited to 
represent Lothlórien in the upcoming competition. Is this your repayment 
to me? That you would come to blows with my grandsons?”
 
“No, my Lord,” Haldir said, looking at the ground in shame.
 
“And you,” Celeborn said coolly, looking at the twins. “I have no doubt 
that this brawl was caused from more of your foolish jesting. You take 
things too far. You must not forget that your father is hosting this event 
here in Rivendell… that you are princes in this realm. Instead, you behave 
like untrained fools and it will not be tolerated. What if King Thranduil 
had seen your behavior? It is bad enough for the three of you to act like… 
like humans in front of my marchwardens, but to behave like fools in front 
of the Mirkwood princes? After years of separation from Mirkwood, the 
old alliances have finally been remade. Would you destroy the alliance 
that has been recreated? Would you?”
 
“Nay,” the dejected warriors answered softly.
 
“I could hear your raised voices in the parlor, at the end of the hallway. I 
thank the Valar that the walls are thick and that we could not identify what 
you were saying. Do you understand that both Elrond and King Thranduil 
were going to see what was amiss until I stopped them? I told them to eat, 
drink and be merry and that I would find out the cause of the disquiet. 
Then, Glorfindel offered to accompany me, but I refused him, asking him 
to enjoy his meal as he has border duty later this afternoon. What am I to 
say to them when I return? Should I tell them the truth? Should I tell the 
King of Mirkwood that the twin princes of Rivendell were in a grappling 
match with the chief marchwarden of Lórien? Both Rivendell and 
Lothlórien will be looked down upon. You have cast a poor reflection 
upon your realms this day… and I am ashamed of you.”
 
Haldir looked as though he had been punched in the stomach and Elrohir 
looked as though his shame would kill him. Elladan stared at the ground, 
breathing heavily. 
 
“My Lord,” Haldir said hesitantly, “perhaps we can do something that will 
right this wrong. Maybe we could gain favor in your sight once again 
somehow.”
 
Celeborn folded his arms across his chest indignantly but then nodded his 
head. “Glorfindel mentioned that the lot of you would be meeting him at 
his post after the afternoon meal. I should disallow the three of you from 
going, but methinks that it will be a learning experience for you. You will 
go to Glorfindel’s post and answer to him while you are there. And if 
word reaches my ear that there was so much as one jest or a word of 
malcontent between you, the wrath and punishment that I will unleash will 
be unspeakable.”
 
The twins looked at one another in disbelief.
 
“You believe that I would try to deceive you? That I would not punish 
you?” Celeborn asked, seeing the looks on the twins’ faces. “Well, then let 
me tell you what I will do to you… so that you fully understand the level 
of my anger. If you fail me in this, you will not compete in the 
competition. In fact, you will not be allowed to stay in Rivendell. I will 
speak to Elrond and King Thranduil about your flagrant disregard for 
authority and will see if the King will allow me to send you to Mirkwood. 
From what I am told, Thranduil has no tolerance for foolery. Thus, you 
will be left in his care for no less than two years. You will be stripped of 
your titles and will work as servants in his kitchens. Neither me nor Elrond 
will recognize you, should you come to our realms. You will simply be 
put away in our kitchens and will be called upon to do our bidding when 
the need arises.”
 
“But Grandfather,” Elladan protested.
 
“You would be wise to keep your mouth shut,” Celeborn snapped, “since 
it is the looseness of your tongue that is often the source of your woes. I 
only ask a small thing of you – that you find a way to mend your 
friendship without doing further damage to the reputation of Lothlórien or 
Rivendell. If you can do this for me, I shall forgive your wrongdoing. Is 
that too much to ask?”
 
“Nay, my Lord,” Haldir said, bowing, “I will not fail you.”
 
“Nor will we,” Elladan said.
 
“Good,” Celeborn said, turning his attention to the princes from 
Mirkwood. “I sincerely apologize for your exposure to this. I hope that 
you will not harshly judge our realms based on those that would represent 
them wrongfully.”
 
“Do not fear, Lord Celeborn,” Makail said warmly. “It is not uncommon 
for warriors to argue every now and again –disagreements happen 
sometimes.”
 
“Yes,” Celeborn said slowly, hoping that Makail would understand his 
sudden silence. 
 
“And as for my father… he will hear nothing of this from our lips. It has 
been forgotten.” 
  
“You are most gracious, Prince Makail.” Celeborn sighed with relief then 
turned and left the dining hall.
 
The young warriors were left to face one another.
 
“I have never seen Lord Celeborn so angry in all my years,” Rúmil 
remarked. 
 
“Nor have I,” Orophin said.
 
“I never thought that I would hear the Lord of our realm speak to me with 
such anger. My heart is full of sorrow and shame,” Haldir said, casting 
Elladan a caustic glance. “I allowed myself to become angry… to lose 
control. Now, I may lose so much more. Lord Celeborn may decide that he 
no longer entrusts the northernmost borders of Lórien to one who would 
throw it all away on a whim.”
 
“Haldir…” Rúmil said, placing his hand on his older brother’s shoulder.
 
“Nay,” Haldir said, stepping away from Rúmil and looking out of a nearby 
window. The breeze caught the marchwarden’s hair and swirled it about 
him. “I have nothing, Elladan,” he began slowly. “You are the son of a 
lord, you have a handsome prince to love and friends all around you. 
When my parents were killed, I took care of Rúmil and Orophin – I raised 
them. I did not have time for friends, for love. My time was spent on my 
duty… my duty to my realm and my duty to my brothers. I would not 
allow the Lord and Lady to help me. I wanted to succeed on my own. 
Nonetheless, they have always been kind to me and to Rúmil and Orophin. 
They gave me a place on the border patrol and eventually I became the 
chief marchwarden on the northernmost border of the Golden Wood.” 
Haldir turned to face Elladan; his face was tired, strained with emotion. “I 
do not regret my decisions. I am proud of my accomplishments, but… 
they are all I have.”
 
“You have us, your brothers,” Orophin said gently.
 
Haldir turned his attention to his brothers. “You are right,” he said, 
smiling faintly. “But both of you will marry. Soon, you will be too busy to 
burden yourself with me.”
 
“That is not true,” Rúmil said, moving to stand beside Haldir. “No one 
could come between us. And anyway, who is to say that you will not find 
love? Perhaps you will be the one to get married and leave us behind.”
 
Haldir scoffed. “That is unlikely. My heart was claimed long ago and my 
feelings have not been returned.”
 
“By Glorfindel?” Elrohir asked.
 
“Aye,” Haldir admitted, looking out the window once more. “I have 
known him for many years. He would always accompany Lord Elrond on 
his journeys to Lórien and my heart would leap every time I saw him… 
but… but he never saw me. In fact, he has never seen me. I am invisible to 
him; he does not know that I exist. I am a minion. I wish what you said 
was true Elladan… that he would tell me about the moon and the craters 
upon it. I wish that he would tell me about everyday of his life. I would sit 
for all of eternity just to hear him speak of all he has done and all he wants 
to do. If he never loves me, I would just like for him to smile at me… just 
once. But it is not meant to be.” Haldir turned and faced Elladan. “I am 
sorry for what I said… what I said about you and Elrohir. I was just angry. 
But, if I may say so, what you did was far crueler. I must go and face 
Glorfindel now, and… I don’t know if I can. You mock me in front of him 
for your own amusement, but you forget that my feelings are at stake. I 
will play the fool today and you will all be there to witness it.”
 
“You will not play the fool,” Elladan said. “I… I **was** trying to tease 
you about Glorfindel, but I was also trying to help you.”
 
Haldir scoffed.
 
“My method may have been faulty but my intentions were sincere. I was 
trying to find a way to ensure that you and Glorfindel could spend some 
time together… that is why I suggested that we journey to his post after 
the afternoon meal. It was a ploy to encourage a conversation between the 
two of you.”
 
Haldir looked at Elladan for a few moments and sighed. “You speak the 
truth, don’t you?”
 
“Aye,” Elladan said sheepishly. “But I am the cause of all of this and I 
will fix it.”
 
“Nay, Elladan,” Haldir said quickly. “You have done enough.”
 
“Please trust me Haldir. I know that I have given you no reason to do so, 
but let me make things right… with Glorfindel, with my grandfather… 
with me.”
 
“Very well,” Haldir said hesitantly. 
 
Elladan smiled.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Later, as the eight elves set out on their horses, Legolas felt an odd sense 
of enmity in the air. This tension was not caused by the hostility between 
Elladan and Haldir, but something else all together. The wind stirred, 
sweeping his hair about wildly as a feeling of terror swept through him. 
He couldn’t think, he couldn’t see; he wanted to escape. He had to escape.
 
“Legolas?”
 
“Huh?” He asked, flinching and looking at Elladan, wide-eyed. He had 
been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn’t realize that they had 
already arrived at Glorfindel’s post. 
 
“What’s wrong?” Elladan asked, concerned.
 
“Nothing,” Legolas said, forcing a quick smile. 
 
The newly arrived warriors dismounted from their steeds and allowed 
them to wander off a bit.
 
The prince observed his surroundings carefully. The woods unfolded 
endlessly into the distance. Although there were abundant trees and 
foliage, the woods were relatively clear, except for a few patches of 
thicket. He could see through the forest very well and kept his eyes 
focused on a clearing in the distance.
 
Elladan regarded the prince for a few moments, shrugged and turned his 
attention to Glorfindel and the other marchwardens who were spread 
throughout the woodland. 
 
“Welcome,” Glorfindel said warmly. “I am glad that you came. 
Although… I must admit that I do not fully understand what it is that you 
would have me do, Elladan.”
 
Elladan glanced at Haldir for a moment and then set his eyes upon 
Glorfindel. “As you know, Haldir is the chief marchwarden of the Golden 
Wood. He also likes poetry and lore. You have much in common. I only 
thought that the two of you could get to know one another better… to 
become friends.”
 
Glorfindel scoffed. “That is quite cruel of you, Elladan,” he quipped 
giving the eldest twin a disdainful look. 
 
Elladan’s eyes widened in fear. He wondered if Glorfindel had figured out 
his ploy. He looked at Haldir and felt his heart drop. The blonde warrior’s 
face was ashen in color and Haldir shifted his weight awkwardly. 
 
Rúmil, Orophin, Dace and Makail exchanged nervous looks and wondered 
how Elladan would respond to what Glorfindel had said. 
 
Legolas, on the other hand, ignored the conversation that was going on 
around him. Instead, he was focused on his surroundings and the feeling of 
unease in the air.
 
“Cruel?” Elladan asked calmly, after a slight pause. “Whatever do you 
mean?”
 
“It is very unkind of you to try and force Haldir to spend time with me,” 
Glorfindel scolded. “He is young and would probably prefer to spend time 
with his peers. You should not ask such things of him… putting him in a 
position where he cannot refuse.”
 
Elladan sighed with relief and smiled. “Nay, you misunderstand, 
Glorfindel.”
 
“I would like to spend time with you,” Haldir said quietly. 
 
Glorfindel observed Haldir skeptically for a few moments and then 
nodded. “Very well, but please do not feel obligated…”
 
“Someone is coming,” Legolas said suddenly. 
 
“What?” Elladan asked, turning his attention to the prince. “I do not sense 
anyone.”
 
“Nor do I.” Glorfindel stared at Legolas for a moment and then looked off 
into the distance.
 
“He… he is hurt,” Legolas said. “He is afraid.”
 
“Who is hurt?” Glorfindel asked, concerned. 
 
Legolas didn’t hear Glorfindel. He looked out into the distance as though 
he was waiting for something. 
 
“What is it?” Elladan asked gently, walking toward the prince, placing his 
hand on Legolas’ left shoulder.
 
The marchwardens in the area exchanged perplexed looks as did the 
Lórien brothers, Elrohir and the two princes’ from Mirkwood.
 
When Legolas did not respond, Elladan moved in front of him, blocking 
the prince’s view. “Of whom do you speak?” 
 
Legolas blinked forcefully and gave Elladan a bewildered look. “You do 
not sense it?”
 
“Sense what?” Elladan asked.
 
“Someone is coming.”
 
“Who is coming?” Glorfindel asked, moving toward the prince.
 
“I… I do not know,” Legolas responded.
 
“How do you know this?” Haldir asked. “I do not sense anyone nor do I 
see anyone.”
 
“I… I sensed it on the wind near midday,” Legolas said. “I could feel it.”
 
“Are you gifted with foresight like Lady Galadriel?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“Nay, although I do have a unique gift. Perhaps that is why I sense 
something… perhaps an animal is involved.”
 
“What do you mean?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“Legolas can speak to animals,” Elladan said.
 
“All elves can speak to animals,” Glorfindel remarked. 
 
“Yes, but not like Legolas. His gift is far stronger than that of you or me. 
He has the power to speak to any beast; he can converse with them, just as 
I am conversing with you. He can summon them… command them. In 
fact, he saved Arwen’s life when he asked his steed Yon, and our steeds, 
Ellie and Eliad to encircle her during an orc attack. You remember when 
we traversed from Gaidon through the woods.”
 
“Ah, yes, I remember,” Glorfindel, remarked. “I also recall a time when 
Lord Elrond spoke of the prince’s gift, but I did not know it was so 
powerful.”
 
“Nor did I,” Legolas admitted. “My power has never been so strong 
before.”
 
“What do you think it means?” Makail asked.
 
“I do not know.”
 
Instantaneously all of the elves attention turned to the forest.
 
“Someone approaches,” one of the marchwarden’s said.
 
Elladan looked in the distance and saw a horse, galloping wildly in the 
direction of Rivendell. “That steed makes great haste as it nears our 
borders,” he said uneasily. “Something is wrong.”
 
“Agreed,” Glorfindel said. “At the rate of speed in which that horse is 
traveling, it will be here shortly.”
 
“That is a human and a human’s horse,” Elrohir said, taking his eyes off of 
the approaching steed and looking at Glorfindel. “Whoever rides that 
stallion must know that Rivendell is near.”
 
“But Rivendell is concealed by magic,” Haldir said.
 
“That does not stop humans from trying to find it,” Glorfindel remarked, 
looking at Haldir. “I am sure that many a foolish mortal has tried to break 
through Lórien’s borders.”
 
“That is true,” Haldir said. “But they are sent on their way, should they get 
too close.”
 
“Aye,” Glorfindel said, nodding. “Which will be our plan of action this 
day.”
 
“That horse approaches with great speed, Glorfindel,” Elrohir said. 
“Methinks it will not stop upon entering the border.”
 
“It will stop,” Glorfindel said calmly, “or it and its master will perish.” He 
looked into the distance once again and saw that the horse had covered 
quite a bit of ground during the elves’ conversation. The steed and the 
human upon it would be upon them very soon.
 
“Mount your horses,” Glorfindel ordered, “all of you. We will form a 
barricade with our steeds.”
 
The elves mounted their steeds quickly and formed their horses into a line.
 
“Ready your weapons,” Glorfindel commanded. “I will push forward and 
greet this visitor. Should he pass me by, it will be your duty to stop or to 
kill him. Of course, I prefer that this go well… that no harm would come 
to this man, but I do not trust humans. If he does not come here kindly, 
then we must assume that he means harm to this realm.”
 
“Glorfindel,” Elrohir said, “Elladan, myself, the Lórien brothers and the 
Mirkwood princes have no weapons for we did not plan to fight this day. 
What would you have us do?”
 
Glorfindel paused for a moment and looked at Makail, Dace and Legolas. 
“This is not your fight. You are our most distinguished guests here and I 
would not want to put you in harms way. I am certain that the king would 
not want any of his sons to fight or to be put in danger without armaments. 
Perhaps you should journey back to your guest house.”
 
“With all due respect,” Makail said, “I would prefer to stay. Rivendell is 
not our land, but it is the land of our kinsmen. I would die to protect it, just 
as I would die to safeguard my own home. I cannot speak for my brothers 
on this matter, but if you will have me, I choose to remain here.”
 
“I, too, wish to stay,” Dace added. “I will fight under the banner of 
Rivendell. But perhaps we could form the barricade, since we are 
unarmed… and the marchwardens can take up the front line. That way, we 
will probably not have to fight, but will be ready, should the human 
survive beyond the first line of defense.”
 
“A sage suggestion,” Glorfindel said in agreement. “Haldir, Rúmil and 
Orophin, are you in agreement with this?”
 
“We are,” Haldir stated.
 
“Elladan and Elrohir?”
 
“Agreed,” they chorused.
 
Legolas was barely aware of his surroundings. The breeze blew lazily 
across his face and he nodded. He knew what he had to do.
 
“Legolas? Legolas, what say you?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“That it cannot be this way,” Legolas said.
 
“What?” Glorfindel asked, dismayed.
 
“No harm can come to this human or his steed. I must ride out and meet 
them.”
 
“Legolas, have you taken leave of your senses?” Makail asked. 
 
“Nay,” the youngest prince responded. “I have to do this. They need my 
help. I must go to them.”
 
“No,” Glorfindel said gently. “You could be seriously hurt or killed in this 
endeavor. Legolas, I cannot allow this.”
 
“You must,” Legolas said firmly. “Things are not always as they appear. 
This human is only a child. Would you kill a child? He means no harm to 
you or to anyone. He is terrified as is Unai, his steed.”
 
“How do you know this?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“There is no time to explain,” Legolas said hurriedly, moving Yon 
forward. “Trust me.”
 
Glorfindel nodded slowly in agreement. “But you must take one of my 
weapons with you.”
 
“I will not need them,” Legolas said, riding off into the clearing before 
Glorfindel could object. 
 
Glorfindel turned his steed to face the warriors. “We will form a solid line, 
blocking entry into Rivendell. Should the human bypass Price Legolas I 
want all that are unarmed to fall back. Marchwardens of Rivendell, you 
know what to do.”
 
The elves formed a horizontal line and watched uneasily as Legolas 
galloped into the distance. Suddenly, the prince turned his steed to face 
them and waited.
 
Elrohir looked to his right and spoke to his older brother. “What does he 
mean to do?”
 
“I do not know,” Elladan said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
 
Suddenly, the human and the horse broke through a grove of trees and 
galloped wildly toward Legolas.
 
The prince seemed completely unfazed and cantered toward the seemingly 
mad steed.
 
“What is he doing?” Dace asked. “That horse will run right into him.”
 
The elves watched in horror as the frenzied horse headed directly for 
Legolas. 
 
“Legolas!” Elladan called, unable to repress his horror any longer.
 
In an instant, Legolas somehow managed to jump from his horse onto the 
human’s horse, squeezing himself in front of a young boy. The steed 
thrashed about wildly running at a frantic pace, but Legolas began to 
speak to it, attempting to calm the steed with his words.
 
As the horse moved closer and closer to the border, Elladan could see that 
a child, who was injured, was nearly hanging off of the large stallion. He 
looked as though he would fall off of the steed if it stopped forcefully 
enough. Elladan moved his steed, Ellie, forward.
 
“What are you doing?” Elrohir asked.
 
“If that boy falls off of his horse he could be killed. I am going to assist 
Legolas.” 
 
“No you’re not,” Elrohir snapped. “**I** will help him.”
 
“Elrohir, now is not the time for your worries,” Elladan said firmly. “I am 
going.”
 
“Then I will go with you.”
 
Glorfindel was so preoccupied with the approaching horse that he did not 
hear the twin’s conversation. “Where are you two going?” He asked as 
they galloped in the direction of the frantic steed.
 
*Unai, you must listen to me. You are in grave danger. Do you see the 
barricade of elves before you? They will kill you and the boy if you try to 
pass them. Please stop. I will take care of you,* Legolas said in mind-
speak to the horse.
 
Unai was only a short distance from the blockade of elves when he 
stopped suddenly.
 
The boy, who had been trying to cling to Legolas’ tunic, was thrown from 
the steed. 
 
Elladan jumped from his horse and caught him, seconds before he hit the 
ground. The weight and force of the child’s mass thrust Elladan to the 
ground. 
 
The boy stared at Elladan, wide-eyed, for a moment and slipped away into 
unconsciousness.
 
--- 
 
Chapter 7: The Visitor 

A/N: The city of Gaidon is completely fictional and does not appear in any 
of Tolkien’s books. It was, however, in my other fic, "Mending a Heart." 
It is made up by me to further the plot of my story. I hope you enjoy this 
chapter! :) 
 
 
 
Evening fell in Rivendell as did an odd quiet around the manor. The young 
visitor had not yet awakened and slept peacefully in a room that was just 
off of Elrond’s healing quarters. Looking around the chamber, Elladan 
noticed that the room was very plain, as its only purpose was to serve as 
resting quarters for the wounded. He remembered when Glorfindel had 
been brought there a few months before and shuddered. Quickly, he pulled 
his mind from unpleasant thoughts and looked around the chamber once 
again. The suite was sparse, having very little furniture. A bed was settled 
in the corner of the room adjacent to a small table. A wooden chair faced 
the bed and a small dresser was across the room underneath a window. 
 
After looking around the room. Elladan’s gaze fell upon the child. 
Enfolded in a large, beige quilt the boy seemed so small--so frail. He 
couldn’t guess the age of the boy, as the rapid aging process of humans 
was beyond reasoning as far as he was concerned. But there was 
something endearing about the child. Perhaps it was his ruddy complexion 
or his disheveled, coppery colored, curly hair, or the way his tiny hands 
gripped the comforter as though his life depended on it and he was still 
riding on his horse, Unai, fleeing into the wilderness. 
 
Without warning, the boy flinched. 
 
“Do you think he is dreaming?” Elladan asked, standing a few feet away 
from the boy’s bed, observing him carefully. 
 
“He may be,” Elrohir said. He was sitting in a chair beside the child’s bed. 
“If he is, I hope that his dreams are good, for he will have much to explain 
when he awakens.” 
 
“Perhaps he is in pain,” Elladan said, looking at the multiple bandages that 
his father had wrapped around the youngster’s arms and head. “I do not 
believe humans are as hardy as elves… especially a tiny human. Do you 
think our medicine will alleviate his discomfort?” 
 
“Father is very skilled,” Elrohir remarked. “I am sure that he will do 
everything in his power to make sure that the boy is comfortable. Where is 
Haldir and the others? I did not see them leave.” 
 
“Haldir, Orophin, Rúmil, Dace and Makail returned to Glorfindel’s post. 
Rúmil told me that they wanted to be there to help if any adult humans 
came looking for the boy,” Elladan explained. “Legolas went to the stable 
to keep Unai company. He wanted to be there with the animal healers.” 
 
Elrohir nodded and stared at the slumbering boy. He could feel the tension 
in the air. The presence of this child was of great concern to every elf in 
Rivendell, and word of a human’s arrival had already spread throughout 
the realm. Everyone wondered who this child was, where he came from 
and whether or not more humans would come looking for him. 
Remembering how the boy had come to Rivendell and how he had been 
saved prompted Elrohir to speak. “Your prince’s feat was quite amazing,” 
he said. 
 
“Legolas is amazing,” Elladan said, smiling. “He is a very skilled warrior. 
He may be one of our greatest opponents in the upcoming competition. 
But I am not overly concerned. Although I love him dearly, I shall be 
forced to beat him mercilessly at any contest he enters. Legolas is a bit 
like his father, so he will not like to lose. So, after I best him, I plan to 
assuage his bruised spirit by pleasuring his body.” Elladan grinned 
deviously and looked at his brother for a reaction. 
 
Elrohir frowned.  
 
“What?” Elladan asked, still grinning. 
 
“You should not have tried to save the boy.” 
 
“Oh, Elrohir,” Elladan said in exasperation.  
 
“Do not ‘oh, Elrohir,’ me. What you did was dangerous and foolish. You 
could have been hurt or killed.” 
 
Elladan shook his head. “You worry too much, Elrohir. As you can see, I 
am fine. No harm came to me.” 
 
“This time,” Elrohir said. “You would do well to heed the warning that 
was given to you. You should stay out of harm’s way.” 
 
“I will not cower in fear if I can help someone,” Elladan said. “And I do 
not listen to threats from orcs.” 
 
“He threatened your life,” Elrohir protested. 
 
“He is a fool. I am not afraid of him. The next time we meet, he shall die, 
not me.” 
 
Elrohir shook his head and looked down at his hands as though he had 
been rendered helpless by Elladan’s words. “If anything happened to 
you…” 
 
“It won’t,” Elladan said, placing his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder and 
squeezing affectionately.  
 
“I have lost so much recently… first Henna, then Ellaria… and now the 
threat of losing you… it is too much to bear.” 
 
“I… I am not ready to speak about what happened to Henna… not yet,” 
Elladan said softly. 
 
“It will be discovered sooner or later,” Elrohir said. 
 
“No it won’t. No one need know about Henna or our whereabouts this past 
summer.” 
 
“There will be questions soon. When the competition begins, Grandfather 
will wonder where your knife is. Remember… he gave it to you. What 
will you say when he asks where it is?” 
 
“I… I don’t know.” 
 
Elrohir shook his head in dismay. “But Grandfather will not be your 
biggest problem-Legolas will.” 
 
“Legolas?” 
 
“He will question you the next time the two of you are alone. I saw the 
expression on his face when Haldir shouted, ‘where were you after 
Glorfindel was hurt? Where were you when Galvannin fell?’ Will you 
continue to lie to him?” 
 
“I have never lied to Legolas,” Elladan protested. “I have simply failed to 
mention the events that took place after he left Rivendell.”  
 
“And what will you say when he asks you what Haldir was talking 
about?” 
 
“I don’t know.” 
 
“You are doomed, you know,” Elrohir said. “No matter what you say, you 
will lose him in the end… just like I lost my Ellaria. If you lie he will not 
forgive you and if you tell him the truth, it is very likely that he will leave 
you. You will be alone… like me.” 
 
“Ellaria loves you, Elrohir,” Elladan said gently. “She just doesn’t 
understand. 
 
“I miss her so much that my heart aches,” Elrohir said, sighing deeply. “I 
love her, Elladan, and I have ruined everything. All of our dreams, all of 
our plans are gone.” 
 
“Give her time,” Elladan encouraged. “She will come back to you.” He 
suddenly realized that his words of support were also for his own benefit. 
The thought of losing Legolas was more painful than he could bear. 
 
The child winced and shifted in the bed. 
 
Elladan and Elrohir regarded the boy once again. 
 
“Do you think we should call father?” Elladan asked a bit nervously. 
“Methinks the child will awaken soon.” 
 
“Nay,” Elrohir responded. “Father, Grandfather and King Thranduil are 
discussing what we should do about this young fellow. We shouldn’t 
bother them.” 
 
The boy murmured and shifted again and Elladan watched the youngster 
curiously. He felt drawn to this child for some reason. He moved closer to 
the boy’s bed and brushed a stray, damp lock of hair from his sweaty 
forehead. 
 
Elrohir smiled. “You seem to be quite taken with this child.” 
 
“I am,” Elladan said, shrugging. “It is odd. Most children annoy me. 
Perhaps I like this one because he is unconscious.” 
 
Elrohir laughed and Elladan found his heart lighten. Ever since the horrific 
events of the summer, Elrohir’s laughter had been less frequent. It was 
nice to hear his younger brother’s melodic laughter once again.  
 
“Actually, I agree with you about this child. There is something very 
charming about him,” Elrohir said, still grinning from Elladan’s previous 
remark. “He is quite fair… for a human.” 
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, nodding and stroking his chin absentmindedly. “It is 
a pity, really. In a few years the child will change. He will start to look 
like an adult human male, and you know that that means.” 
 
“Nay, what does it mean?” 
 
“He will sprout hair all over his body and face and resemble a bear more 
than anything else. Human males are such furry creatures. I cannot 
imagine how their females find them to be attractive.” 
 
“They smell, too,” Elrohir added. “Do they ever bathe?” 
 
“Of course not,” Elladan said, “but I have discovered the reason why they 
prefer to be filthy and covered with fur. Methinks it is a means of defense. 
I believe that they prefer to look like animals to frighten off their enemy. 
If the enemy gets too close, the stench will scare him off.” 
 
Elrohir laughed and clutched his stomach. 
 
Suddenly, the boy moaned and writhed in annoyance. It seemed that the 
noise had disturbed him. Without thinking, Elladan placed his hand on the 
child’s shoulder as a means of comfort but accidentally roused the child 
from sleep. The boy’s eyes opened and Elladan withdrew his hand 
quickly. 
 
The child sat up slowly and looked at the bandages that covered his arms. 
He touched the wrapping that had been tied around his head and frowned. 
He looked at his surroundings slowly and shrieked when he saw a male 
sitting in a chair beside the bed, staring at him. 
 
“Shhh… be still,” Elrohir said. “Do you wish to frighten everyone in the 
whole realm?” 
 
“Get away!” the frightened boy yelled. “Where is Unai? Where is my 
father?” 
 
“Unai is in the stable,” Elrohir said gently. “He was wounded on your 
journey here. Do not fret, he has been well taken care of.” 
 
“Please take me to him, please,” the child pleaded. 
 
“Be calm,” Elrohir said. 
 
“Nay! Nay! I want to see Unai!” The boy tried to get out of the bed but 
fell forward as a sudden dizziness took hold. 
 
Elladan caught the child in his arms and smiled. “You always end up here 
don’t you?” He sat beside the child, to his right, on the bed, placing a firm 
hand on his arm. “We will not prevent you from seeing your steed, but you 
need your rest. It would seem that you have had a very tiresome day.” 
 
The child looked at Elladan and then Elrohir and his eyes widened. “It is 
you,” he said in awe. 
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks. 
 
“You are the twinship… Odion and Yeno. Who is the eldest?” 
 
“I am,” Elladan said.  
 
“Are you the one that saved me?” 
 
“Aye.” 
 
“You are Odion! And you,” he pointed at Elrohir, “are Yeno.” 
 
“I am Elladan and this is my brother Elrohir. Perhaps, you have us 
confused with someone else.” 
 
“Perhaps.” The boy nodded slowly and smiled. He knew that Odion and 
Yeno were their names in the village where he had been living recently. 
*Elladan and Elrohir must be their elvish names,* he surmised.  
 
Before the conversation could progress further, Elrond, Thranduil and 
Celeborn entered the chamber. 
 
“Hello,” Elrond said warmly to the boy. “I am glad to see that you have 
awakened.” 
 
The boy looked at Elladan fearfully and grasped the warrior’s left wrist 
tightly. 
 
Elladan smiled and placed his free hand over the boy’s as a means of 
reassurance. 
 
“I am Lord Elrond and these are my friends, King Thranduil and Lord 
Celeborn,” he motioned to the rulers as he spoke. “What is your name?” 
 
The boy looked around the room as though he were about to flee, but 
Elrohir sat on the opposite side of the child smiled kindly. “Do not fear, 
Young One, this is my father. He will not harm you. In fact, he is the one 
that mended your wounds.” 
 
“He… he is your father?” the boy asked timidly. 
 
“Yes,” the twins chorused. 
 
The boy still looked at Elrond distrustfully, but allowed him to unwrap the 
bandages and examine his wounds. He flinched suddenly and saw the elf-
twin’s father cast him a look of sympathy.  
 
“I am sorry,” Elrond said. “I did not mean to hurt you. Your wounds are 
not deep and the healing ointments are already starting to work. I will need 
to put clean bandages on your arms and head, though, and you should not 
need them by tomorrow morn.” 
 
The boy did not speak to Elrond. Instead, he tightened his grip on 
Elladan’s wrist and looked to the twins for reassurance.  
 
Elrohir placed his hand on the child’s back and Elladan continued to 
smile. 
 
Elrond worked quickly, putting ointment on new bandages and rewrapping 
the child’s wounds. Trying to ease into a conversation, he met the boy’s 
eyes. “Now, what did you say your name was? I cannot recall what you 
are called.” 
 
The child did not respond. 
 
“If you do not wish to tell me your name, that is fine,” Elrond said 
sincerely. “Perhaps you can tell me where you are from. We mean you no 
harm; we just want to take you back to your family; we want them to 
know that you are safe. I am certain that they are very concerned about 
you.” 
 
The child watched Elrond carefully but did not respond. 
 
“This is not working, Elrond,” Thranduil said. “Perhaps we should try 
another approach.” Before he could respond, the king of Mirkwood 
pushed Elrond aside, his face only inches from the boy’s. “Who are you 
and what is your purpose here in Rivendell? Who sent you here?” 
 
The boy whimpered in fear. 
 
“What is your name and the name of your father?” Thranduil asked. 
“Answer me!” 
 
“Leave me alone,” the child said, nearing tears. 
 
“I will not leave you alone until you have answered my questions,” 
Thranduil said coolly. “Now, you will start by telling us your name. Who 
are you?” 
 
Tears rolled down the boy’s face and he breathed uneasily. 
 
“This is not the way, Thranduil,” Elrond said, placing his hand on the 
king’s shoulder and pulling him away from the boy. “This child is a guest 
here.” 
 
“A guest?” Thranduil said in incredulity. “We do not know who he is.” 
 
“Nonetheless,” Elrond said firmly, “he is in our care and we must respect 
his refusal to speak to us.” 
 
“Elrond,” Celeborn said, “I must agree with King Thranduil, we need 
to…” 
 
“There is another way,” Elrond said, interrupting Celeborn. “Elladan, may 
I speak with you for a moment?” 
 
Elladan tried to stand up but the child’s tight grip prevented him from 
getting too far. “Do not fear, Elrohir will not leave your side, and I will 
only be gone for a moment.” 
 
The boy nodded slowly and released Elladan’s wrist, drying his face with 
one of his hands. 
 
Elladan rose to his feet and walked outside of the chamber to where his 
father was standing. He noticed that King Thranduil and his grandfather 
had also exited the boy’s chamber and were waiting patiently only a few 
feet away. “Yes, father?” 
 
“I need you to find out everything you can about this child. Then, later, 
come and tell me what you have discovered.” 
 
“What makes you think that the boy will tell me anything?” Elladan asked 
in disbelief. 
 
“This is your gift,” Elrond said, smiling faintly. “I can mend the body, but 
you can mend the heart. It is clear that the child is already taken with you 
and Elrohir… he will eventually disclose his identity to you. When he 
does, report to me at once. His family must be sick with worry and will be 
looking for him. So, we must return him to his home.” 
 
“I will do my best, Father,” Elladan said. He watched as his father, 
grandfather and the king walked away and couldn’t help but grin at the 
exasperated expression on Thranduil’s face. Elladan knew that the king 
had been bested by the boy and knew how badly that must have hurt such 
a fragile ego. Now, however, it was his turn to speak to the child and he 
felt fairly certain that he would not be successful either. His father had 
always told him that he had a gentle presence, but he doubted if the boy 
would be aware of it. Sighing, Elladan reentered the chamber and met the 
child’s eyes. 
 
“Did I get you in trouble?” the boy asked. 
 
“Nay,” Elladan replied. “But my father and the others are worried about 
you.” 
 
“Why?”  
 
“Because we do not know who you are or where you come from. Your 
family must be very concerned.” 
 
The boy pondered Elladan’s words for a moment. “Alright then, I will 
answer your questions.” 
 
Elladan looked at the child in shock. “I am surprised that you are so 
willing to offer any information about yourself when you would not give it 
to my father or the King.” 
 
“I will tell you because I know who you are and I know I can trust you.” 
 
“What do you mean?” Elrohir asked. 
 
“You and your brother are Odion and Yeno; you are the twinship… the 
elf-warriors of Arnon… the sons of Channary... born in the Vita temple.” 
 
Elladan and Elrohir looked at one another and then back at the boy. 
 
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Elladan said sincerely, “and I 
wish I was this… this… Odion, but I am not.” 
 
“And I am not Yeno,” Elrohir remarked earnestly.  
 
“You cannot fool me,” the boy said, grinning. “I know that you like to 
keep your whereabouts a secret, but if you had not come out of hiding and 
saved me… I would have surely died.” 
 
“Actually, Legolas, my friend saved you,” Elladan said. “He rode out and 
met your horse; he mounted Unai and guided him to the borders of this 
realm.” 
 
“He was more concerned with Unai than me,” the child said in 
disagreement. “It was you who caught me, with your brother by your 
side.” 
 
“That is true,” Elladan said. 
 
“I owe you my life. My father thinks that I am too young to understand 
such things, but he misjudges me.” 
 
“I see,” Elrohir said, impressed by the boy’s candor.  
 
“I will tell you anything that you want to know.” 
 
“Very well,” Elladan said, sitting at the foot of the bed and looking at the 
child. “What is your name?” 
 
“I am Taran, son of Tarell,” the boy responded. 
 
“Well, Taran, son of Tarell,” Elladan said, “this is going to be a very long 
evening.” 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
A bit later, after the evening meal and once the boy had gone to sleep, 
Elladan and Elrohir slipped out of the healing chamber and walked toward 
their father’s assembly room. Their father had come to the small chamber 
to check on the child and had slipped Elrohir a note, urging them to attend 
an emergency council meeting once the boy had fallen asleep.  
 
The twins entered the large hall and were surprised to see that they were 
seemingly the last participants to arrive, as their father, grandfather, King 
Thranduil, Glorfindel, the Lórien brothers and the princes from Mirkwood 
were already there.  
 
Elladan looked around the room and smiled when he caught Legolas’ eye. 
The prince looked especially handsome in his forest green tunic and sable 
leggings and Elladan felt his heartbeat quicken and his loins suddenly ache 
with desire. He tried to push the lustful thoughts out of his mind and focus 
on the task at hand--the council meeting and what would be done with the 
boy. He sat down beside the prince, unable to resist brushing a stray lock 
of hair out of Legolas’ eyes, and suddenly felt a feeling of dread wash 
over him. He saw the look of curiosity in the depths of the prince’s orbs, 
and knew that Elrohir had been right--Legolas would question him soon. 
Elladan didn’t want to think about that now, so he pushed the unwanted 
thoughts out of his mind and focused his attention on the chamber instead 
and realized that he had not been there in many years.  
 
The room was moderate in size, and cozy for a meeting hall. Candles 
tinted the room in a warm golden glow and the moonlight peeked through 
the windows, casting an ethereal, pallid light across the wooden floor. A 
mahogany podium stood in the front of the room and rows of bark colored 
chairs were spread throughout the chamber in neat rows. There was only 
one large window in this room, just to the left of the chairs and a few long, 
rectangular tables outlined the perimeter of the suite. 
 
“Today has been very unusual,” Elrond said to commence the meeting. 
“We must come together and try to make sense of what has happened and 
then try to decide what to do about our young visitor. Elladan, Elrohir did 
the child reveal anything to you?” 
 
“Aye, Father,” Elladan responded. 
 
“Please tell us all that you know.” Elrond sat down beside Thranduil and 
waited for his sons to speak. 
 
Elladan and Elrohir walked to the podium and turned to face the anxious 
assembly of elves before them. Elrohir nodded at Elladan to begin the 
discussion. 
 
“The boy’s name is Taran and he is eleven years of age. His father is 
called Tarell,” Elladan began. 
 
“Did the child say where he was from?” Celeborn asked. 
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, “Taran came to us from Gaidon.” 
 
The small crowd began to talk all at once until Elrond raised his voice 
authoritatively. “That is not possible. Few, if any children live in Gaidon. 
It is a town of drifters, harlots and drunkards. I cannot believe that he is 
from there.” 
 
“Nay, he is not from Gaidon,” Elladan said for clarification. “His people 
just arrived in Gaidon and were only planning to stay there for a short 
time. He said that his last home was in Ruza and that his people also spent 
some time in Bree.” 
 
“What kind of life is that for a child… to travel endlessly?” Celeborn 
asked. 
 
“It is the life of the Northern Dúnedain,” Elrohir said. 
 
“He is one of the Northern Dúnedain?” Thranduil asked, looking at Elrond 
and Celeborn. “What business do they have in Gaidon?”  
 
“Taran either did not know or would not say,” Elrohir continued. 
 
“Did the boy explain why he came to Rivendell?” Elrond asked.  
 
“Yes,” Elrohir said nodding, “but some of his tale is unclear.” 
 
“Please, do not delay,” Celeborn said, “tell us what happened.” 
 
“Taran fancies himself an adventurer,” Elladan began. “He, his family and 
others arrived in Gaidon about a fortnight ago. According to Taran, the 
men, for some unknown reason, have been very uneasy. They have kept 
their weapons at close at hand and have been taking turns guarding the 
perimeter of Gaidon.” 
 
“Much like the border patrol,” Celeborn murmured.  
 
“Aye,” Elladan said. 
 
“Taran wanted to be of some assistance,” Elrohir picked up the story 
where Elladan left off. “He wanted to guard the border… to help the men. 
But his father told him that he was too young and that his place was at his 
mother’s side… making sure that she was safe. Taran became angry. He 
objected to the way he was being treated and decided to take matters into 
his own hands.” 
 
“He took his father’s horse, Unai,” Elladan said, “early this morning… 
before the sun had risen. The men were exhausted because of their 
constant watch so they did not see Taran take the steed. It was his wish to 
patrol the border while the men were resting; he sought to please his 
father… to show him that he was not a child. Somehow, he mounted Unai 
and set out for the border, once he was there he patrolled for a little while, 
but then Unai became restless. Taran said that he heard a noise and then, 
without warning, Unai began to run wildly into the forest. Taran said that 
he tried to slow Unai, but that all his attempts were unsuccessful. Unai 
fled through the underbrush, passing through tree branches and bushes 
laced with thistles. Taran said that he could feel his skin ripping as Unai 
ran as though his life depended on it… he said that he doesn’t remember 
how long Unai ran, but that he gave up hope of controlling Unai and 
decided to try not to fall off of the horse instead.” 
 
“Unai ran for almost half a day,” Celeborn said in disbelief. “What would 
make a steed behave so strangely? Do you think he is mad?” 
 
“Nay,” Legolas responded. “I spoke to Unai. Perhaps his side of the tale 
will prove to be useful and answer some of the questions you have.” 
 
“Yes,” Elrond encouraged, “please continue, Legolas.”  
 
The prince stood and turned to face the small group of elves. “I spoke to 
Unai once we were in the stable. He told me that the boy had been 
forbidden to ride him, but that Taran managed to climb upon his back 
despite his father’s disapproval. Taran led Unai to the edge of the border 
when he saw a beast hiding in the thicket.” 
 
“A beast?” Thranduil said. “What kind of beast?” 
 
“I am not certain, but Unai said that he saw a large wolf-like creature 
whose eyes gleamed yellow in the moonlight. He said that he saw razor 
sharp teeth and that the wolf-creature lunged at him. He ran into the forest 
and the creature pursued him for quite a long time, mauling his flank at 
one point during the chase. Despite his exhaustion and injury he continued 
to run… to save the boy and himself. He said that he doesn’t remember 
when the beast discontinued the pursuit, but that he ran until I mounted 
him.” 
 
“A wolf-creature,” Celeborn said, pensively. “Do you think that Unai saw 
a warg?” 
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged nervous looks.  
 
“It is possible,” Elrond said. “But if it was a warg, then why did it not 
attack the slumbering villagers. It would have been very easy to kill a few 
of the men.” 
 
“And why did the beast chase a horse laden with a child. If it was a warg, 
it would have hardly been a challenging kill,” Celeborn added. 
 
“There is something odd with this story… it does not sit well with me,” 
Thranduil said. “I believe that this is human foolery.” 
 
“What do you mean?” Elrond asked. 
 
“How was that child even able to get on the horse?” Thranduil asked. 
 
“He said that he led Unai to a nearby tree, climbed it and then mounted 
him,” Elrohir explained. 
 
“A likely story,” Thranduil said in disbelief. “The humans are no fools; 
they find elves to be pretty little creatures and would probably love to see 
what Rivendell is like. So, they created an elaborate tale, taught it to the 
boy, put him on the horse and now he is here. By first light, this realm will 
be littered with **concerned** humans who want nothing more than to 
see Rivendell and some little pixies for their own amusement.” 
 
“Thranduil,” Elrond said gently. “I am a bit weary of humans, but I cannot 
imagine that any father or mother would expect such a young child to 
survive alone in the wild on top of a frenzied stallion. You saw Taran’s 
state and the condition of the horse… no parent would do such a thing to 
their child.” 
 
“Perhaps not,” Thranduil said, “but something does not sit well with me 
about this. If the Northern Dúnedain are really in Gaidon they are there for 
a reason.” 
 
“I agree,” Celeborn said. “The humans are up to something and I am 
certain that no good will come from their presence so near Rivendell. We 
must try to find out why they are here and if the child’s appearance was 
truly unintentional.” 
 
“Agreed,” Elrond said. “I propose that Elladan and Elrohir journey to 
Gaidon tomorrow morn. Taran should be well enough to ride by then. 
Most importantly, he has bonded with the twins and will feel the most 
comfortable if they take him to Gaidon. Legolas, do you think that Unai 
could go on the journey tomorrow?” 
 
“I am not certain, I will go and speak to Turin, the primary animal healer 
if you’d like. Turin is sure to know.”  
 
“Nay, I will go and speak to Turin myself,” Elrond said. “I want to see the 
steed for myself and ask Turin some questions about the horse’s injuries.” 
 
“I would like Legolas, Dace and Makail to accompany Elladan and Elrohir 
to and from Gaidon,” Thranduil said. “If the humans intent is not pure, 
they will be quite surprised when a group of heavily armed elves enters 
their city.” 
 
“That is a good idea,” Elrond said in agreement. 
 
“Begging your pardon, my lords,” Glorfindel said, “but may I make a 
suggestion?” 
 
“Of course,” Elrond said. 
 
“Methinks that you should send Haldir to Gaidon,” Glorfindel said. “Like 
me, he is a marchwarden and is the eldest among the younger elves. I am 
certain that his skill and knowledge will be useful on the journey.” 
 
All eyes turned to Haldir whose face was crimson. 
 
Elrond glanced in Thranduil’s direction and saw a large grin etched across 
his face. He was surprised when he felt a twinge of jealously and 
wondered why the king looked so pleased. 
 
“What say you, Haldir?” Celeborn asked. “Do you wish to go to Gaidon?” 
 
“Aye,” Haldir said softly. “May my brothers come as well?” 
 
“Of course,” Celeborn said. “I believe that many warriors are necessary 
for this journey, as we do not know what we are up against.” 
 
“Then it is settled,” Elrond said. “You will set out tomorrow morn after 
first light. Please go and take your rest. I want all of you to have your wits 
about you when you arrive in Gaidon.” 
 
With these final words, the meeting was adjourned. Elrond, Celeborn and 
Glorfindel exited the chamber, as did Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin. 
 
“Elladan?” Legolas said, rising to his feet. “I… I want to speak to you 
when we get to your bedchamber… my curiosity has been peaked.” 
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks. 
 
“Of… of course, Legolas,” Elladan said. “We can…” 
 
“Makail, Dace, Legolas,” Thranduil called loudly, “I wish to speak with 
you in the guest house about your journey before you retire for the night. 
Please meet me in the meeting hall there right away.” 
 
“Aye, Father,” the princes chorused. 
 
“I guess our talk will have to wait,” Legolas said, shrugging. 
 
“Perhaps we can talk after we return from Gaidon,” Elladan said, trying 
not to sound too relieved.  
 
“Aye,” Legolas said. “We will talk some other time.” He grasped 
Elladan’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. “I will see you tomorrow 
morn.” Legolas released Elladan’s hand and smiled. 
 
Elladan nodded and caressed the prince’s face. “Sleep well.”  
 
“I can’t,” Legolas said, meeting Elladan’s storm colored eyes, “without 
you.” 
 
Elladan smiled faintly and watched as Legolas exited the room. 
 
“Luck was on your side tonight, Brother,” Elrohir remarked once Legolas 
had left the room. “But you will not be able to avoid his questions 
forever.” 
 
Elladan pondered his brother’s words for a few moments and sighed as he 
exited the meeting hall. He had no idea what he was going to do. 
 
“You should not go on this journey,” Elrohir said, interrupting Elladan’s 
thoughts. 
 
“Father has commanded me to go,” Elladan remarked. “How can I be 
excused from this assignment without having to explain myself?” 
 
“I do not know,” Elrohir said. “But if Unai really saw a warg, then you are 
in grave danger.” 
 
Elladan sighed in disagreement, but wondered if Elrohir was right. 
---  
 

Chapter 8: Gaidon
 
 
A/N: The cities of Gaidon, Cal’ way, and the forest of Cultee have been 
created to enhance my fic. These places were not used in any of Tolkien’s 
stories.
 
 
Thranduil entered the grove and began looking for a fallen branch. He 
didn’t know what he would carve today and hoped that recent events 
would inspire him. Picking up a long, thick limb, the king sat down on a 
bed of moss and took out his carving knife. Ever so carefully, he began 
peeling the bark off, revealing the pristine wood beneath the rough 
covering. He looked up suddenly when he heard someone approaching.
 
“Good morning, Thranduil,” Elrond said.
 
“Hello Elrond. What are you doing here?”
 
“I knew you would be here… I know you have an aversion for the 
morning meal so I thought I would join you this day.”
 
Thranduil watched Elrond in disbelief when he sat down beside him and 
pulled out a book from a pocket inside his robe.
 
“You brought reading material?” Thranduil asked, shaking his head.
 
“Yes…. Is that wrong?”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said, smiling. “It is right.” The king began peeling the 
bark from the branch again but now felt very distracted. He could feel the 
warmth of Elrond’s body and could hear his breathing. He watched the 
way the lord’s fingers turned the pages of the book and wondered what 
else those fingers could do.
 
Elrond felt the king’s eyes on him and looked at Thranduil, who turned 
away and rubbed the back of his neck, hoping that the lord had not seen 
him staring. 
 
“Someone is coming,” Elrond said.
 
Thranduil listened carefully and heard voices approaching. “It sounds like 
Lord Celeborn…”
 
“And Glorfindel,” Elrond added.
 
“There you two are,” Celeborn said. “We have been looking for you.”
 
“Has something else happened?” Elrond asked, still sitting on the ground. 
“Have humans come looking for the boy?”
 
“Nay,” Celeborn said. “And hopefully that will not happen since the boy is 
on his way back to Gaidon as we speak. I hope the journey is uneventful.”
 
“As do we all,” Elrond said.
 
“You were not at the morning meal,” Celeborn continued, looking at 
Elrond. “Glorfindel and I waited so that we could dine with you. We sat at 
the table until our food became cold and finally asked where you were. 
We were told by one of the servants that you had gone for a stroll, so we 
decided to come and seek you out. I did not know that you were with the 
king. If we are interrupting…”
 
“Nay, nay,” Elrond said quickly. “Thranduil prefers to spend his mornings 
in the sun, rather than at a table. So, I decided to join him. It is quite 
invigorating.”
 
“Would you like to join us?” Thranduil asked.
 
“Yes, thank you,” Celeborn said, sitting down on a large fallen limb.
 
Glorfindel bowed and began to walk away.
 
“Glorfindel?” Thranduil said. “Where are you going?”
 
“I am taking my leave.”
 
“Why? Do you not wish to stay?”
 
“I… I did not know that the invitation was extended to me,” Glorfindel 
replied honestly. “I am not a ruler, thus, I assumed…”
 
“You assumed incorrectly,” Thranduil said. “You are most welcome here. 
Please, have a seat.”
 
“Thank you, Sire,” Glorfindel said, sitting beside Celeborn.
 
Thranduil winced and looked at Glorfindel. “You do not have to be so 
formal with me. You can call me Thranduil… titles are not necessary.”
 
“Thank you, Sire,” Glorfindel said without thinking.
 
Thranduil gave the marchwarden a disdainful look.
 
“I… I mean, Thranduil,” Glorfindel said quickly.
 
Thranduil smiled.
 
“When do you think they will arrive in Gaidon?” Celeborn asked.
 
“Probably around midday,” Elrond responded. “I was just telling 
Thranduil that I hope they have an uneventful journey to Gaidon.”
 
“I am sure that they will,” Glorfindel said. “And luckily, they are all very 
skilled warriors. I am especially glad that Haldir went. He has more 
experience than the others, so his presence should prove to be very 
useful.”
 
Thranduil chuckled.
 
“What is humorous?” Elrond asked, looking at the king.
 
“Methinks Haldir would have preferred to stay here,” Thranduil said, 
unable to hide the amusement in his voice. 
 
“Oh,” Glorfindel said, suddenly very concerned. “Do you think I should 
not have volunteered him for the journey?”
 
“I think that Haldir would do anything that you wanted him to,” Thranduil 
remarked. “Absolutely anything.”
 
“I do not understand,” Glorfindel said, looking at Celeborn and Elrond for 
support.
 
“Certainly you are not serious,” Thranduil said, meeting Glorfindel’s eyes 
for a few moments and then widening his orbs in shock. “You… you are 
serious,” he said in incredulity.
 
“Serious about what?” Glorfindel asked, confused.
 
“Elrond, tell Glorfindel about Haldir,” Thranduil said.
 
“I would if I understood what you are talking about, but I must admit that I 
am baffled.”
 
Thranduil looked at the confused expressions on Glorfindel, Celeborn and 
Elrond’s faces and shook his head in exasperation. “You have not seen the 
way that Haldir drools all over himself when you are near, Glorfindel?”
 
“What?” Glorfindel asked in shock.
 
“Haldir is quite taken with you,” Thranduil continued. “It is very plain to 
see… to me, anyway.”
 
“King Thranduil…”
 
Thranduil narrowed his eyes.
 
“I mean… Thranduil,” Glorfindel said quickly. “Surely you jest. Haldir 
has spent a little time with me recently, but methinks that the twins forced 
him to do it. You saw the way Elladan was behaving during the midday 
meal yesterday. He was trying to force Haldir to spend time with me 
against his will.”
 
“Ah yes, Elladan’s great plot. No offense, Elrond, but your eldest son is 
infuriating at times. It is no surprise that he and Haldir almost came to 
blows. Luckily, Celeborn was there to abate the argument.”
 
“What?” Elrond asked, looking at Celeborn.
 
Celeborn shifted a bit nervously under the weight of the sudden silence in 
the grove and tried to think of something to say. “I…”
 
“It is quite alright,” Thranduil said, before Celeborn could try to explain 
the argument that had taken place. “You do not have to explain.”
 
“I want you to explain it to me,” Elrond said, looking at Celeborn. 
“Elladan and Haldir were arguing?”
 
“Aye,” Celeborn said, making sure to be extra careful of what he said in 
front of the king. “I do not know what was the cause of the quarrel, but I 
stopped it.” The lord paused for a moment before speaking again. 
“Thranduil, please do not hold the dishonorable actions of my 
marchwarden or grandson against Rivendell or Lórien. I am shamed by the 
reflections that have been cast upon our realms.”
 
Thranduil shook his head and sighed. “May I speak candidly?”
 
“Of course,” Celeborn said, trying to hide the uneasiness in his voice.
 
“I have grown weary of being treated like a king. Elves from near and far 
go out of their way to tread softly around me. I assume that they are afraid 
that I will break or that my head will explode if I am not handled like the 
petals of a flower. I have servants, marchwardens, healers and countless 
others at my call… and yet, I have no friends. I know that I sent Legolas to 
Lothlórien as an emissary of Mirkwood. I wanted our long estranged 
realms to become allies once more. Now that I have met you, Celeborn, 
you seem to be very amiable. I would like to be your friend. You do not 
have to try to hide things from me, fearing that I will harshly judge you. I 
will save my judgments for official matters or for my charges. Here… 
here in this grove let us cast off our titles and just be ourselves. What say 
you?”
 
Celeborn sighed with relief and smiled. “That sounds like a good idea. I, 
too, tire of always having to uphold the façade of being a ruler. Aside from 
my wife Galadriel, only Elrond and Glorfindel are my friends. I would be 
happy to count you among them.”
 
Thranduil smiled and focused his attention on Elrond. “Now, about the 
clash between Haldir and Elladan… I would have to assume that Haldir 
did not like the way Elladan was teasing him. So, he probably threatened 
to kill him. I can’t say that I blame Haldir; I would have done the same 
thing.”
 
Elrond stared at Thranduil openmouthed. 
 
“That being said, however, yesterday in the refractory, Elladan was trying 
to help Haldir.”
 
“Help him?” Celeborn asked.
 
“Aye. Haldir likes Glorfindel and would never approach him, so Elladan 
took matters into his own hands. He invited Haldir to the border to spend 
some time with Glorfindel… probably to get them to spend some time 
alone together.”
 
Glorfindel’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “That cannot be right. 
Why would Haldir want… me? He is very young.”
 
“And very handsome,” Thranduil added, smirking. “You may not have 
known his intentions but do not tell me that you haven’t noticed the 
fairness of his face.”
 
Elrond felt a strange surge of jealousy.
 
Glorfindel shrugged. “I never thought of him in that way. To me, Haldir is 
a child.”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said, shaking his head, “Haldir is many things, but a 
child is not one of them. He is young, I agree with you there… he is a little 
pup, but even pups need to be trained.”
 
Glorfindel blushed and Thranduil chuckled. “Oh come now, did none of 
you see how simple he looked last night when Glorfindel volunteered him 
for the journey. He face was so red that he looked like the setting sun.”
 
“Actually, I did notice,” Celeborn admitted. “But I just assumed that he 
was embarrassed by all of the attention.” He paused briefly before 
explaining further. “Haldir and his brothers are like the sons I never had. 
When their parents were killed, I helped to raise them. Haldir has always 
been very serious; to my knowledge he has had very few relationships, 
and has always kept to himself. His brothers are more social. I… I guess 
that I am surprised… that’s all. In many ways, it makes sense… when we 
entered Rivendell and Glorfindel greeted us, Haldir simply beamed. I 
remember thinking that he seemed more eager than usual.”
 
“And so he was,” Thranduil said, grinning. “He was hoping that the Elder 
would teach him some new tricks.”
 
Glorfindel’s face reddened again.
 
“I am not trying to embarrass you, Glorfindel. And I hope that my candor 
has not offended you.”
 
“Nay,” Glorfindel said. “It is just that I have been alone for many years. I 
do not understand what a handsome young elf like Haldir would see in an 
ancient elf like me.”
 
“Who cares!” Thranduil exclaimed. “If that bantling wants to be taught the 
ways of the Elder… teach him. I would.”
 
Elrond felt a knot form in his stomach but shrugged it off when Celeborn 
looked in his direction.
 
“Oh, don’t give me those uppity expressions. Now, if Haldir gave me a 
second glance, there is no way that I would deny him. If he wants you, 
Glorfindel… let him have you. See if that red color on his face extends 
past his neck.”
 
Glorfindel laughed and shook his head. “You are quite amusing, 
Thranduil. I must admit… I never would have guessed it.”
 
“And why is that?”
 
“Well…” Thranduil hesitated.
 
“Tell me the truth,” Thranduil said. “I really want to know.”
 
“Very well,” Thranduil said a bit slowly before continuing. “After the 
years of squalor between you and Elrond, I just assumed that you were not 
very kind. Aside from Celeborn, Elrond is my dearest friend. It is hard for 
me to imagine why anyone would hold him in contempt.”
 
Thranduil was silent for a few moments and nodded his head slowly. “You 
are right, Glorfindel. It was wrong of me to be so unkind to Elrond. He did 
not deserve to be treated that way. Luckily, the Lord of Rivendell is very 
tolerant… but I must admit, I do not deserve his forgiveness.”
 
Glorfindel and Celeborn were baffled by the sincerity and the regret of 
Thranduil’s words. They were rendered speechless.
 
“Never you mind the past,” Elrond said, placing his hand on Thranduil’s 
shoulder. “All has been forgiven.”
 
Thranduil smiled at Elrond and held his gaze for a few moments before 
meeting Glorfindel’s interested stare. “Now, Glorfindel… returning this 
conversation back to Haldir. My suggestion is that you spend some time 
with the pup when he returns from Gaidon. See for yourself the way he 
looks at you. Then, if he pleases you, try seeing how ripe he is.”
 
“What do you mean?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“Do you know how the planters can tell if a berry is ripe?”
 
“They squeeze it,” Celeborn said before Glorfindel could respond. 
 
“Precisely,” Thranduil remarked. “Methinks this technique will work with 
young elves. Where you would choose to squeeze is of your own concern, 
Glorfindel, but I for one would reach for the mounds just below his back.”
 
Celeborn laughed and shook his head and Glorfindel laughed, too. 
 
Elrond forced a smile but didn’t find the king’s humor to be very amusing 
this day. In fact, he suddenly wanted to throttle Haldir.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Haldir urged his steed forward and steadied his horse’s pace once he was 
in between the twins. “The border of Gaidon is near; I can see it in the 
distance.” He regarded Elladan carefully, waiting for the eldest twin’s 
response.
 
Elladan nodded, giving the Lórien marchwarden a warning glance, as he 
looked from Haldir to the young boy, who was sitting in front on him on 
his steed, Ellie.
 
“I would like you to fall back when we approach the border… all of you,” 
Haldir said, raising his voice so everyone present could hear. “Orophin, 
Rúmil and I will assume the front as we approach the border. Elladan, 
Elrohir, I want the two of you to take up the rear. Elrohir, I would like you 
to watch over the steed, Unai. If he gets out of hand, Legolas will be able 
to calm him. Elladan, your primary role will be to keep the boy safe. 
Taran, I will need you to stay cloaked when we enter Gaidon. Your family 
may be startled when they see eight heavily armed elves entering the 
realm; they may think we mean you harm, even though we are bringing 
you to them. Humans are often quite impetuous, and may not react kindly 
to our presence. You are not to speak until you are told to do so. Do you 
understand?”
 
Taran nodded slowly.
 
“Legolas, Dace and Makail, settle yourselves as the second line of 
defense… between my brothers and I, and the twins. We do not know 
what we may be up against. We must be prepared to fight if the need 
arises.”
 
“Last night, our father took us aside and asked us to be prepared for battle. 
We are ready to fight, if we must,” Makail said.
 
“And just who made you the leader of this journey?” Elladan asked. “I do 
not recall being told to follow your orders.”
 
Haldir gave Elladan a caustic look, but remained calm for the sake of the 
child. “It is quite simple,” Haldir said. “I am the eldest and I outrank you.”
 
“**You** outrank **me**?” Elladan scoffed.
 
“Aye,” Haldir said confidently. “The lot of you may be royalty and you 
are all fine warriors, but my status as head marchwarden of Lórien 
exceeds the importance of your nobility. In battle, I am your commander.” 
 
“Well,” Elladan said in mock exasperation, “I never knew you could be so 
authoritative, Haldir. I wonder what Glorfindel would think about your 
propensity for being in control?”
 
Haldir glared at Elladan.
 
“I am just jesting,” Elladan said quickly, and smiled when Elrohir, 
Orophin and Dace laughed.
 
Everyone positioned themselves as Haldir had ordered as they languidly 
approached the border of Gaidon. 
 
Suddenly, the men at the edge of the city began to stir. They pointed at the 
approaching band of elves and readied their weapons.
 
The elves, however, did not slow their pace. Instead, they trudged along 
the path that led to the human city, seemingly unaffected by the human’s 
frenzied actions.
 
The sun shone down on the elven warriors, making them glow in the rays 
of the orb that was now at its zenith. The men armed themselves and 
approached the elves on foot.
 
“What business do you have in Gaidon?” A tall, lanky man, with dingy, 
brown colored hair and a ruddy complexion asked, holding a sword in his 
hand, ready to strike. 
 
“Our business is none of your concern,” Haldir said coolly. “We wish to 
speak to whomever is in charge here.”
 
“I am in charge,” the man spat. “And you will state your purpose or go 
back from whence you came.” Four heavily armed humans flanked the 
man who was speaking.
 
Haldir arched a delicate eyebrow and smirked.
 
“You find this amusing?” the man asked in dismay, glaring at Haldir. 
“Elves are rather peculiar creatures. They find humor when their very lives 
are at stake.”
 
“On the contrary,” Haldir quipped. “I am smiling because **your** lives 
are in danger, and it is amusing to me to see you and your men bumbling 
about in the hope that you could possibly defend yourselves from us.”
 
The man stared at Haldir in shock and began to speak, but Haldir 
interrupted him.
 
“I would not say another word if I were you. You will only anger us and 
that would not be very wise.”
 
“And why is that?” the man asked, puffing up his chest in a demonstration 
of bravery.
 
“If you know anything at all about elves then you will know that our 
strength, intellect and valor is superior to yours. I alone could raze you and 
the four men behind you on a whim, and there are eight of us. Our aim is 
true… is yours?”
 
The man’s chest looked quite deflated upon hearing Haldir’s words and he 
lowered his sword, as did the other humans. “We will lead you into 
Gaidon.”
 
“That is what I thought,” Haldir said smugly.
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks; they were impressed with the 
marchwarden of Lothlórien.
 
Several of the men mounted nearby steeds and surrounded the small band 
of elves, including the tall, lanky man who rode in front. “Follow me,” he 
said, looking at Haldir.
 
Haldir nodded, and spoke quietly in elvish when the man returned his 
attention to the road ahead. He knew that the human hearing was not as 
keen as elves, so he tried to speak loud enough for his comrades to take 
notice of what he was saying, but just below the human level of hearing. 
“Be on your guard. I do not like nor trust humans, and do not understand 
their haste to draw out their weapons on us. Something is amiss here.”  
Haldir looked at his brothers who nodded in agreement.
 
As they journeyed along a narrow path that led into the city, Elladan 
smiled. He remembered the last time he and Elrohir had visited Gaidon, 
and how much fun it had been to taunt Legolas. He thought about how 
broken the prince had been then, so soon after his mother’s death. He 
shuddered at the memory. Then, he remembered that Gaidon had been the 
place where he and Legolas had admitted that they had feelings for one 
another. He stared at the back of the prince’s head and felt his smile 
widen. He loved Legolas.
 
As if on cue, Legolas looked back and met Elladan’s eyes. They held one 
another’s gaze for a few moments and Legolas smiled and nodded. 
Slowly, the prince returned his attention to the road.
 
Elladan suddenly felt uneasy and wondered if Legolas could read his 
mind. He stared at the back of the prince’s head intently, willing the prince 
to look at him once more, but Legolas did not look back.
 
Elladan sighed and began to observe his surroundings. He hated Gaidon. 
While the foliage was pretty enough, the dilapidated old houses that 
stretched along both sides of the lane made his stomach turn. A group of 
slovenly men staggered across the road and harlots stood at nearly every 
corner, awaiting a paying suitor. The whole town reeked of alcohol and 
filth and Elladan couldn’t help but wonder why any human would want to 
live there.
 
After passing the main strip of rundown stores, houses and brothels, the 
human in the front of the group turned left.
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged looks, they had never been beyond the first 
road in Gaidon. In fact, they didn’t know that the city extended this far 
past the border.
 
The landscape had grown very dense again. Flower covered trees and 
shrubbery lined each side of the path. In this section of town, the roadway 
was in far better condition, it looked as though it had recently been 
smoothed out. The birds were busy building their nests in various trees 
and some butterflies flitted about on the wind.
 
Elladan was in shock and in awe at the same time. This place was 
beautiful. It looked nothing like Gaidon and he suddenly wondered where 
the humans were leading them.
 
The path ended and the elves found themselves baffled at what was before 
them--a mighty human city. It was smaller than Rivendell, but quite 
impressive. A large, white marble fountain sat in the middle of a clearing 
and the road surrounded it. Plain but attractive, white buildings littered 
this part of the city and small wooden cottages could be seen on the hills 
in the distance. People bustled about, bartering goods or talking. Without 
warning, a man approached.
 
“Dugan, who have you brought with you?” 
 
“A party of elves. They wish to speak to the chieftain.”
 
Elladan watched the human carefully. He was handsome… for a man. He 
had broad shoulders and narrow hips, large hands and kind, blue eyes. 
Elladan did not know much about the aging process of humans but knew 
that this one was young. He found himself admiring the waviness of the 
man’s dirty blonde hair and the golden color of the man’s skin. The human 
wore sable boots and leggings and an indigo colored tunic that enhanced 
the hues of his eyes and the bronze of his skin. 
 
The man nodded. “Thank you for escorting the guests to the inner sanctum 
of Gaidon. Please return to the border, as you may be needed.”
 
The men looked at one another hesitantly but obeyed their orders.
 
Several well-armed humans were near, but did not approach the elves as 
brazenly as the men who had been ordered to return to the border. Instead, 
they kept a close watch on the visitors, seemingly protecting the man who 
stood before them.
 
The hustle and bustle of the city had decreased, as the presence of the 
elves had peaked the curiosity of many people. Men and women stood in 
the distance, watching inquisitively.
 
“Who is the leader of this faction, so that I may address you 
appropriately?” the man asked.
 
“I am,” Haldir said.
 
“Very well,” the man said. “I am very sorry that you have journeyed to 
Gaidon, but the chieftain is not here… nor is the commander. I am Kress 
and have been put in charge while the others are away. Can I be of 
assistance?”
 
“Perhaps,” Haldir said, looking at the human cautiously. “Have you lost 
anything?”
 
“Begging your pardon?”
 
“Is that the reason that your chieftain and commander are not here? Are 
they in the wilderness, looking for something… or someone?”
 
Kress nodded and looked at Haldir eagerly. “A boy named Taran and his 
father’s steed went missing. The child is the son of our commander. A 
party of men is out searching for them now. Have you seen them?”
 
Haldir nodded. “Elladan and Elrohir,” he called, moving his mount to the 
side.
 
The other elves moved their horses so the twins could pass through them. 
 
Elladan and Elrohir moved slowly toward Kress, and Elladan removed the 
child’s hood.
 
“Taran! Taran!” a woman shouted, running toward the boy. 
 
“Mother!” Taran said. Before Elladan could stop him, Taran slid off of 
Ellie’s back and onto the ground. He ran toward his mother, who 
embraced him lovingly.
 
“I feared the worst, but you’re alright,” she sobbed. “My Taran, my 
foolish little boy, you have returned to me.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir watched the woman in a stupor. Her long, blonde 
wavy hair fell well below her waist. Her flawless, cream-colored skin 
shimmered, as it was wet with tears, and her piercing blue-grey eyes, 
looked up at the twins in gratitude.
 
Elladan thought he would be sick and Elrohir felt a knot form in his 
stomach as they beheld this woman. She looked very much like their 
mother.
 
Even Haldir and his brothers noticed the woman’s resemblance to 
Celebrían and stared at her in awe.
 
Legolas, Orophin and Dace did not understand why their comrades were 
looking at the female in such awe, but regarded her with interest as they 
tried to come up with their own conclusions as to the fascination their 
friends had with this woman.
 
“Thank you,” the woman said, approaching the twins. “Thank you,” her 
voice broke and she pulled Taran close.
 
Neither Elladan nor Elrohir could speak; they had been rendered 
speechless by this woman’s face.
 
Kress took Unai’s reigns and led him to one of the guards. “Take the 
commander’s horse to the stables. Ask Tine to inspect those wounds.”
 
“Aye,” the guard replied.
 
“We are indebted to you…. all of you. Please, I would like to invite you 
to…”
 
“It’s them!” a man in the distance shouted. “The twinship has come. 
Odion and Yeno, they are here. They will save us!”
 
The crowd pressed closer and stared at the twins in adoration and awe. 
One by one the inhabitants of Gaidon fell to their knees, their heads 
bowed.
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged disbelieving looks while their comrades 
watched the people in shock.
 
Kress did not bow but stared at the twins in admiration. 
 
Several of the Northern Dúnedain nodded their heads and began to 
whisper to one another, staring at the twins eagerly.
 
“I did not see you before, as you were hidden behind your kin. You are 
known to us,” Kress said. 
 
“Taran spoke to us about the gods that are worshipped here… Odion and 
Yeno are two of them. But we are not supernatural beings. I am Elladan 
and this is my brother Elrohir. We hail from Rivendell and are the sons of 
Elrond, ruler of our realm. I am certain that you do not know us.”
 
“On the contrary,” Kress said. “I am not from Gaidon. I do not worship 
their gods. But we of the Northern Dúnedain have seen you before… near 
Cal’ way, just outside the forest of Cultee.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir exchanged nervous glances, but tried to remain calm. 
 
“You must have seen someone else,” Elrohir said quickly. “We have not 
been near Cal’ way in a very long time.”
 
Kress looked at the twins in disbelief but nodded his head. 
 
Suddenly, the people of Gaidon rose to their feet and a dozen women 
approached the twins. An attractive woman with long, black tresses and 
dark brown eyes spoke. “I am called Channah, named in honor of your 
mother. I have always longed to meet you, and believe that you have been 
sent here to help us. Would you do us the honor of allowing us to perform 
the ritual of Kayless? We will allow you sometime to consider our offer.” 
Channah and the other women walked away, anxiously awaiting their 
answer. 
 
Before the twins spoke Kress added softly, “Do not refuse her. The ritual 
of Kayless is an honor bestowed only upon the most respectable kings. 
Channah is a priestess and would not offer to perform the ritual if she did 
not believe that you were worthy. To deny her would be quite rude.”
 
“But we are not who she thinks we are,” Elladan protested quietly. “If we 
do not refuse, then we are claiming to be the sons of Channary. Elrohir 
and I are many things, but we are not gods.”
 
“Allow Channah and the women to perform the ceremony,” Kress 
encouraged. “Do not destroy these people’s only hope.”
 
Elrohir sighed. “What should we do?” he asked Haldir and the others.
 
“I do not trust humans,” Haldir said. “Kress, will this…. ritual cause the 
twins harm?”
 
“Nay,” Kress said grinning. “They will get only pleasure from the ritual.”
 
“Pleasure?” Legolas asked, casting Elladan a concerned look. “Does the 
ritual involve… intimacy?”
 
“Nay,” Kress said, seemingly noticing Legolas for the first time. “They are 
waiting for an answer. Do not keep them in suspense.”
 
“Channah,” Elladan said, “we accept.”
 
The crowd cheered and the women walked toward the twins.
 
Servants offered the remaining elves some food, but they refused politely, 
preferring to keep an eye on Elladan and Elrohir.   
 
“You will need to dismount,” Channah said, gently.
 
The twins obeyed and their steeds, Ellie and Eliad, were led to a large pool 
of water. Four men appeared and began lavishing them with attention. The 
horses were bathed, brushed and then fed fresh fruit.
 
Channah and the other women led the twins to the fountain and sat them 
down on the ledge. Carefully removing the twin’s boots, Channah and 
another woman, Naava, dipped their hair into the fountain and began to 
wash their feet. Several other women combed the twin’s hair and 
massaged their scalps, while others sang to them.
 
Once the ceremony had been completed, Ellie and Eliad were brought to 
the twins and they were allowed to leave. The once happy people of 
Gaidon now seemed very sorrowful. Channah grasped both of Elladan’s 
hands and kissed them while Naava did the same to Elrohir. Channah met 
Elladan’s eyes, unable to stop her tears and spoke softly. “You will 
return?”
 
“I… I do not know,” Elladan admitted.
 
“You were sent here for a reason. Don’t you see? All of this was for a 
reason. You will return to us,” Channah said, smiling and touching 
Elladan’s face.
 
Elladan did not argue with Channah. Instead he bowed and mounted his 
steed. 
 
Elrohir rode over to Elladan, staring at him intently for a moment. 
 
Elladan knew that Elrohir wanted to speak to him alone. 
 
Waving, they elvish warriors headed back toward the borders of Gaidon 
accompanied by Kress on horseback, who was serving as their escort. The 
twins scanned their surroundings for Taran or for the woman who looked 
like their mother, but they were nowhere to be found. 
 
Once they reached the border, Kress spoke, “It was good to meet all of 
you. It is a pity that you did not have the opportunity to meet our 
commander. He would have wanted to thank you for bringing Taran back 
to him. Have a safe journey and may our paths cross again.”
 
Elladan and Elrohir nodded. Then, the elves headed into the forest.
 
“That was very odd,” Dace said. “I have never seen anything quite like 
that.”
 
“Nor have I,” Rúmil added. “They actually thought that the two of you 
were gods… and we all know how far from the truth that is.”
 
The twins cast Rúmil identical scathing looks and their comrades laughed.
 
As the day wore on, Elladan and Elrohir slowed their steeds a bit, allowing 
themselves to fall well behind the others. When they were out of earshot 
Elladan looked at Elrohir curiously. “You looked as though you had 
something to say to me earlier. What is it?”
 
“Naava told me that the Northern Dúnedain spoke of twin warriors they 
saw this summer near Cal’ way, when they arrived in Gaidon. They said 
that the elvish, twin warriors were seen in a great battle with an army of 
orcs.”
 
Elladan looked straight ahead. 
 
“Elladan, do you know what this means?”
 
Elladan shrugged.
 
“Everything the orc said is coming true. Elladan… you are going to die.”
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 9: Disclosure
 
A/N: This chapter is a bit violent. Reader caution is advised.

 
Once Elladan, Elrohir and the others had returned from Gaidon, the were 
ushered into Lord Elrond’s assembly room to provide information about 
the goings on in the human city. Even though the meeting did not last 
long, the warriors were anxious to take their leave. They were more than a 
bit fatigued from their journey and desired a good meal and a comfortable 
bed.
 
“Legolas?” Makail said as the princes from Mirkwood emerged from Lord 
Elrond’s assembly room. 
 
It was dusk, and the coppery colored sky painted the beige walls in hues of 
scarlet and ginger.
 
“Legolas, slow down,” Makail said, jogging to keep up with his younger 
brother.
 
“What is it?” Legolas asked, turning to face his brother, unable to hide the 
annoyance in his voice.
 
“What happened today? Are you alright?”
 
“I am fine,” Legolas said abruptly, and started to walk away, but Makail 
put his hand on his shoulder to prevent him from leaving.
 
“Do not lie to me,” Makail said. “Tell me… what happened?”
 
“Nothing!” Legolas snapped, shaking loose from Makail’s grasp and 
stalking away. 
 
“Elladan… Elladan?” Makail called when the eldest twin stepped out of 
the assembly room.
 
“Aye?”
 
“May I speak with you for a moment?”
 
“Of course.”
 
“I… I am not sure if I should be saying anything to you… but I am 
worried about Legolas.”
 
“Indeed?” Elladan asked, his eyes widening.
 
“We should not speak about this here. I would not like my father to hear 
this conversation. May we talk in private?”
 
“Yes,” Elladan responded. “Follow me.” He led Makail down a hallway 
and then turned left and walked down a long corridor. Entering a small 
chamber, Elladan turned to face Makail. “We are alone, here; this passage 
is empty. Now, why are you worried about Legolas?”
 
“Something odd happened today,” Makail began slowly, “after we left 
Gaidon. When we were nearing the borders of Rivendell, Legolas 
became… agitated.”
 
“What do you mean?” 
 
“He began to look around frantically, as though some evil creature was 
near. I called to him, but he didn’t seem to hear me.”
 
“I do not recall Legolas becoming agitated,” Elladan remarked. “Where 
was I when this took place?”
 
“You and Elrohir were talking…. You had fallen back, quite a distance 
from the rest of us.”
 
Elladan frowned.
 
“It was strange to watch, Legolas. It was as though he was somewhere 
else. I looked into his eyes and saw something that I have never seen 
before…”
 
“What? What did you see?” Elladan asked.
 
“Terror.”
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Elladan entered his bedchamber and smiled when he saw Legolas. 
 
The prince was laying on the bed, face-up. His legs were bent at the knee, 
his bare feet were planted firmly upon the bed and his arms were laced 
underneath his head. He was staring at the ceiling.
 
 “Are you hungry?” Elladan asked, looking down at the prince.
 
“Nay,” Legolas said, still looking upward.
 
“But it is time for the evening meal,” Elladan protested. “Everyone will be 
wondering where we are.”
 
“I do not wish to eat,” Legolas said. “Go ahead without me.”
 
“Nay, if you are not going, then I choose to remain here. May I join you?”
 
“Aye.”
 
Elladan wanted to stay with Legolas but was a bit hungry. He was 
surprised to see a small bowl, full of some pretty pink and green berries. 
He grabbed a handful and began to eat. Elladan sat down at the foot of the 
bed and watched the prince carefully. He wondered why Legolas seemed 
so melancholy. Placing his hand on the prince’s knee, he stroked it gently. 
“What are you thinking about?”
 
“Nothing,” Legolas replied.
 
Elladan placed the berries on the bed while he removed a necklace from 
around his neck.
 
“Is that the necklace that I gave to you?”
 
“Aye.”
 
“I haven’t seen it on you since I have been here.”
 
Elladan raised his eyebrows, “I wear your gift everyday, but keep it hidden 
underneath my tunic. I only take it off at night.”
 
Legolas shrugged and began to look up at the ceiling again.
 
“Talk to me, Greenleaf,” Elladan said gently. He ate the rest of the berries 
and began caressing the prince’s knee again.
 
Legolas sighed and sat up. “You have been so secretive lately.”
 
“What do you mean?” Elladan asked, a bit surprised by the prince’s 
statement.
 
“You and Elrohir… you are always giving each other strange glances or 
whispering to one another. Something is amiss.”
 
Elladan didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realized that he and Elrohir’s 
secret was so obvious.
 
Legolas watched Elladan for a few moments and sighed. “You know… the 
last time you kept something from me, it was nearly our end.”
 
“Is that a threat?” Elladan asked, looking at Legolas carefully.
 
“Nay,” the prince said, shaking his head. “I love you Elladan. I only wish 
that you could trust me.”
 
“I do trust you.”
 
“Prove it then.”
 
“How?”
 
“By answering some of my questions. I have heard and observed some 
strange things and I wish to understand,” Legolas explained. 
 
“Very well,” Elladan said, hoping that Legolas could not tell how nervous 
he was. He knew the prince was going to ask him about what Haldir had 
said when they had argued. He knew that he couldn’t lie to Legolas, but he 
couldn’t tell the truth, either, for it may mean the end of their relationship.
 
“Recently, when you and Haldir were arguing, he said some strange 
things.”
 
“Like what?” Elladan asked, trying to stall.
 
“Why did Haldir ask where you and Elrohir were when Glorfindel was 
hurt? And who was Galvannin?”
 
Elladan sighed and nodded his head slowly. “I will answer your 
questions.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “About a fortnight 
after you and your family left Rivendell, Glorfindel’s post was attacked.”
 
“Attacked?” Legolas asked in shock, “By whom?” 
 
“Orcs,” Elladan said. “They struck late one evening. Glorfindel was 
injured in the battle and Galvannin, one of the marchwardens, was killed.”
 
Legolas blinked forcefully, as though he could not believe what he was 
hearing. 
 
“Glorfindel’s wound wasn’t mortal, but he was out of commission for a 
couple of days. He was stabbed in the chest. Luckily, the blade missed his 
heart.”
 
Legolas shook his head in dismay. “Why was Haldir angry that you and 
Elrohir were not there? How did he know about the battle?”
 
“About a week after you had left Rivendell, some elves from Lórien came. 
There were here when the orcs attacked. When they went back to 
Lothlórien, I am certain that they told everyone what had happened here.”
 
Legolas nodded his head.
 
“As for what Haldir said… about Elrohir and I not being there for 
Glorfindel…” Elladan paused for a moment before continuing. “We were 
not on duty when the orcs attacked. Maybe he believes that if we had been 
there, Glorfindel would not have gotten hurt.”
 
Legolas nodded again and Elladan sighed inwardly. He felt badly about 
not telling the prince the whole truth, but he figured that some truth was 
better than no truth.
 
“And what about Elrohir?” Legolas asked. 
 
“What about him?”
 
“He has been different lately,” Legolas said. “He seems… distracted and 
upset. He has even been a bit crass with me, at times. What ails him?”
 
“It is Ellaria,” Elladan said.
 
“Ellaria?” 
 
“Aye. They… they are no longer together.”
 
“What?” Legolas asked in shock. “How? When? Why?”
 
Elladan laughed nervously. “You ask too many questions.” He could feel 
his heartbeat quicken. He knew that if Legolas knew the answers to these 
questions, he would know all that had happened after he had left. He had 
to find a way to put a stop to further questions.
 
“I ask questions when the answers are not obvious to me,” Legolas 
explained, “and I must admit that this news is especially shocking. Ellaria 
and Elrohir were so much in love; they had been together for many years. 
What could have happened to end their relationship? Especially when they 
were supposed to be wed so soon?”
 
“I… I cannot disclose Elrohir’s private matters,” Elladan said so abruptly 
that the prince arched his eyebrow. “Come now, that is enough questions. 
I wish to ask you one.”
 
“What?”
 
“After the debriefing with my father and the others, I spoke with Makail.”
 
Legolas sighed audibly and averted his attention to the bed.
 
“He said that something happened in the forest today.”
 
“I am fine, Elladan,” Legolas said, flatly. “Makail worries too much. He 
still treats me like a child sometimes, because I am the youngest. Ignore 
his concerns. He is overreacting.”
 
Elladan nodded, even though he knew that Legolas wasn’t being 
completely honest with him. Suddenly, he felt better. If Legolas could 
keep a few secrets, so could he. 
 
*I feel so strange.* He looked at the prince and smiled suddenly. Legolas 
looked so handsome. His flaxen locks were swept to one side and 
cascaded over one shoulder like a golden waterfall and his face was oddly 
flushed. He wanted to taste the prince’s crimson skin.
 
“Legolas?” Elladan said, huskily.
 
“Aye.”
 
“May I ask you another question?”
 
“Must you?”
 
“Yes.”
 
“Very well then,” The prince said, still looking down. 
 
“Do you remember what I said to you recently?”
 
Legolas pondered Elladan’s question for a few moments, then shrugged 
and shook his head. He finally met Elladan’s eyes. “No.”
 
“I said that I wanted to have you for the morning meal. And since you 
denied me then, you cannot deny me now.”
 
Legolas chuckled. 
 
“You promised that I could have you whenever I wanted… and I want you 
now. Do not try to escape, for I have plans for you this night.”  
 
“Indeed?” Legolas asked, smiling. “And just what do you plan to do to 
me?”
 
“Whatever I want,” Elladan said, pushing the prince onto his back before 
he could protest. 
 
Legolas’ heartbeat quickened when he felt the weight of Elladan’s body 
on top of him. 
 
“Since I did not partake of the evening meal this night. I will have you, 
instead.”
 
Legolas smiled and ran his fingers through Elladan’s dark mane. “Take 
me, I am yours,” he whispered.
 
Elladan needed no more encouragement. Without another word, he met 
the prince’s lips in a hungry kiss.
 
Legolas accepted Elladan’s warm mouth and opened his own, hoping that 
Elladan would slide his tongue inside.
 
Elladan felt the prince’s mouth open and allowed his tongue to enter 
Legolas’ wet cavern. Deepening the kiss, he explored the prince’s mouth 
without abandon.
 
The prince could feel his arousal increase; his heart was pounding in his 
chest, longing for more.
 
Elladan shifted his body and slipped his right arm underneath Legolas’ 
tunic, stroking the prince’s nipples until they hardened. Caressing Legolas 
languidly, Elladan never broke their kiss.
 
Legolas gasped when the tender buds on his chest hardened. “Elladan,” he 
whispered against his lover’s lips.
 
Elladan continued his ministrations, moving his hands up and down the 
prince’s chest while continuing to kiss Legolas hungrily.
 
The prince arched his back, pressing close to Elladan, rubbing their bodies 
together.
 
Elladan finally broke the kiss and moved his mouth to Legolas’ neck.
 
The prince moaned, writhing slowly beneath his lover.
 
Elladan stopped the kiss abruptly and met Legolas’ eyes. He caressed the 
prince’s face gently. “Legolas?” he said softly.
 
“Aye?”
 
“I… I… love you.”
 
Legolas smiled. “I love you, too.”
 
“Always remember that… no matter what happens.”
 
Legolas regarded his lover for a few moments. Elladan was upset; his 
voice broke when he spoke and his eyes were laced with sorrow.
 
“What is wrong, my Elladan?” Legolas asked, touching the dark-haired 
warrior’s face.
 
“Nothing,” Elladan said quickly. “I suppose that I am caught up in the 
moment, that’s all.”
 
Legolas nodded slowly, but didn’t believe what Elladan was saying. The 
prince wondered what Elladan was hiding from him, and had the sinking 
feeling that no good would come from this secret.
 
Elladan smiled faintly and sat up, on top of the prince, quickly 
unbuttoning his tunic.
 
Legolas, whose mind was no longer preoccupied with curiosity, bucked 
upward, rubbing his hard member against Elladan’s thigh.
 
Elladan arched one of his eyebrows and grinned. “Sit up.”
 
Legolas sat up and helped Elladan remove his overtunic. Before the prince 
could assist his lover further, Elladan yanked Legolas’ undertunic over his 
head roughly and laughed at the sight before him.
 
Legolas’ hair was draped messily over his face and when the prince tossed 
it back over his shoulders, multiple loose hairs were sticking out 
everywhere.
 
“You find me funny?” Legolas asked.
 
“Hilarious!” Elladan said, continuing to laugh. Before he could say 
anything else, Legolas shoved him roughly and Elladan toppled off of the 
bed and onto the floor.
 
Legolas laughed when Elladan glared at him. “Well, you deserved it.”
 
“Perhaps,” Elladan said. “But what is good for me is also good for you!” 
He reached up and grabbed Legolas’ foot, tugging firmly.
 
The prince grabbed hold of the bed, trying desperately not to fall off, but 
Elladan’s hold was too strong. In only a moment’s time, Legolas landed 
ungracefully on the floor with a loud thud.
 
Elladan began to laugh so hard that tears trickled down his face.
 
Legolas shook his head in annoyance at first, but soon found himself 
engulfed in his own laughter.
 
Elladan slowly regained his composure and moved close to the prince, 
stroking his bare chest gently. “I enjoy our time alone together. For a 
stodgy prince, you can be quite amusing at times.”
 
“Stodgy?” Legolas said in mock consternation. 
 
“Do not fear,” Elladan said, allowing his hand to move to the prince’s 
abdomen. 
 
Legolas closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, meeting 
Elladan’s lustful gaze.
 
“You shan’t be stodgy when I get through with you.” Suddenly, Elladan 
could feel a raw, aching desire overtake him. He wanted Legolas and he 
wanted him now.
 
“Whatever do you mean?” the prince asked innocently. “What are you 
going to do to me?”
 
“Whatever I like,” Elladan said, unable to hide the huskiness in his voice. 
 
“And what exactly does that mean?” Legolas asked, feeling his arousal 
swelling in his loins.
 
“Would you like me to tell you or show you?”
 
“Both.”
 
“Very well.” Elladan began to crawl toward Legolas, looking at him 
carnivorously. He felt oddly powerful – like a sexual predator, and he 
would pleasure the beautiful prince into complete submission.
 
Legolas watched Elladan curiously. He was surprised by his strange 
behavior. He found Elladan to be a skilled lover, but was sometimes a 
little disappointed by the Rivendell warrior’s meekness when it came to 
the art of pleasure. For once, just once, he wished that Elladan would 
ravish him. 
 
Elladan grasped Legolas by the shoulders roughly and forced him onto the 
floor. He ran his finger down the prince’s taught chest and abdomen until 
he reached the waistband of Legolas’ leggings. “You wanted to see and to 
know what I am going to do to you?”
 
Legolas raised his head off of the floor and nodded.
 
Elladan smiled. “Good. Then I want you to watch me. But let’s get back 
on the bed. I want you to be comfortable.”
 
Both Elladan and Legolas stood.
 
“Get onto the bed, but do not lie down completely. I want you to see what 
I am going to do to you.”
 
Legolas crawled onto the bed and placed a couple of pillows against the 
headboard so that his head would be propped up. He situated himself, face 
up, with the upper part of his back and head against the pillows.
 
Elladan sat near the prince’s feet and began to massage them gently.
 
Legolas closed his eyes for a moment but then opened them, remembering 
that he was supposed to be watching. 
 
Elladan met the prince’s eyes and grinned devilishly. “First, I am going to 
stroke the large bulge in between your thighs.”
 
Legolas sighed in anticipation and spread his legs open.
 
Elladan placed his hand on the lump that was hidden beneath the prince’s 
leggings, and caressed slowly.
 
Legolas moaned and could feel his member enlarging with every adroit 
movement of his lover’s hand. 
 
Elladan found the tip of the prince’s hard organ and traced his finger over 
it lazily.
 
Legolas bucked upward, his body aching for closer contact with that hand 
and those long, slender fingers.   
 
“It would seem that your nipples could use a bit of attention.” Elladan 
used his right hand to stroke Legolas’ member and his left to squeeze and 
caress the prince’s nipples. 
 
A strangled moan emerged from Legolas’ throat, but he didn’t close his 
eyes. Instead, he watched Elladan, finding the sight to be very arousing.
 
Elladan allowed his left hand to slide down the prince’s side and moved 
his right hand to the waistband of Legolas’ leggings. Tugging firmly, he 
slid the prince’s garment off and licked his lips when he saw the 
enormous, cylindrical organ, seemingly aching to be relieved. 
 
“Touch me, Elladan,” Legolas said softly. “Please.”
 
“I thought that I was supposed to talk,” Elladan said, smirking.
 
“Nay,” Legolas said. “I have changed my mind. I will talk and you will 
do.”
 
“But I am having my way with you, remember?”
 
“You still can,” Legolas explained. “I… I… oh, Elladan… please, just let 
me do this.”
 
“Oh, alright,” Elladan said, not really caring what Legolas was saying. All 
he wanted to do was to hear the prince scream his name. 
 
“Touch me,” Legolas ordered, opening his legs.
 
“Where?” Elladan asked.
 
Legolas gave the dark-haired elf an exasperated look. Then he reached in 
between his legs and stroked his engorged shaft lovingly. “Here.”
 
Elladan watched the prince touch himself for a few moments, but pushed 
his hands away and replaced them with his own. He cradled the warm 
flesh in between his hands, allowing his fingertips to massage the tip of 
the prince’s member.
 
Legolas began to breathe uneasily as the pleasure coursed through his 
lower region. He watched Elladan intently, silently willing his lover to do 
more.
 
Elladan looked at Legolas’ lust-filled eyes and smiled. “Is this to your 
liking, Sire?”
 
“Yes,” the prince replied breathlessly. “But I desire more.”
 
Elladan awaited his orders, never ceasing to caress the prince’s member.
 
“I want you to taste me.”
 
Without any further instruction, Elladan knelt forward and placed the 
prince’s shaft into his mouth.
 
Legolas gasped. “Lick me… oh, Elladan, lick. Please? Yes… yes…” The 
prince was panting and trying desperately not to lose control.
 
Elladan sucked and licked Legolas, thoroughly enjoying the moans of 
encouragement he was hearing. Suddenly he felt completely different. He 
decided that he would no longer take orders from the prince. This would 
be done his way. Without warning, he sat up.
 
Legolas looked at Elladan in dismay. “What are you doing? I didn’t tell 
you to stop.”
 
“You are right,” Elladan said. “And you will tell me nothing more this 
night. I shall have you the way I want, Prince.”
 
Legolas looked at Elladan in shock and noticed that he seemed even more 
different than before. His voice was different… it was deeper, heavier, 
thicker. He sounded as though he had too much ale, but they had been in 
the room together the whole evening. 
 
Elladan mounted Legolas suddenly; his face was only inches from the 
prince’s. “You will scream for me this night, Prince and I shan’t stop until 
you do.”
 
Legolas found that he couldn’t speak. Elladan’s eyes were black. He had 
seen them darken from their normal misty color to a deep storm-cloud 
grey. But now they were like pools of water at night. He could see his 
reflection in them. Suddenly, he felt a bit uneasy.
 
Elladan sensed the prince’s nervousness. “I shan’t hurt you. Your pleasure 
is my only aim.”
 
“Who… who are you?”
 
“I am your Elladan, of course, and I wish to hear you beg.” He sat up on 
top of Legolas, straddling the prince’s torso and began to unbutton his 
tunic.
 
Legolas watched but did not offer any assistance to his disrobing 
companion. Instead, he watched Elladan carefully. He wondered if 
someone had put his lover under a spell. 
 
Elladan tossed the tunic onto the floor. He leaned over and opened the 
nightstand drawer that was beside the bed, taking out a bottle of oil. He 
took the top off of the bottle and put a little of the oil on his fingertips. He 
placed the bottle and the lid on the nightstand, still sitting on top of 
Legolas. Elladan rubbed his fingertips together and placed them on the 
prince’s nipples, caressing slowly.
 
Legolas gasped and felt his body responding to Elladan’s touch. His 
nipples re-hardened and he moaned with pleasure.
 
Elladan stopped his ministrations and grasped one of the prince’s hands. 
He placed it on the bulge that was straining against his leggings.
 
Legolas caressed Elladan slowly, watching him writhe against his hand, 
while Elladan continued to stroke and pinch his nipples.
 
Elladan groaned and pushed his body forward so that the prince could 
explore him more fully. He could feel his member throbbing with desire 
and wanted to free it from the leggings that had now become painfully 
tight. Elladan pushed Legolas’ hand away and got up off of the bed. 
Without haste, he pulled his shoes and leggings off and grasped the bottle 
of oil, once again. He poured a generous amount of oil on his hands and 
sat at the foot of the bed. He rubbed his hands together and placed one of 
them on the prince’s shaft. 
 
“Uh,” Legolas gasped, as Elladan began to move his hand up and down 
the hardened pillar or flesh.
 
“Ah… Elladan,” Legolas said, biting his lower lip as he watched what his 
lover was doing to him.
 
Elladan released the prince’s member and spread his legs wider so he 
could introduce one of his fingers to the tight opening between Legolas’ 
buttocks. Pushing his finger forward, it entered the sweltering heat inside 
of the prince.
 
Legolas dug his fingers into the comforter, letting out a loud moan when 
Elladan placed a second finger insider of him.
 
Elladan stretched the prince carefully and then began to slide his fingers in 
and out of Legolas, relishing the way the prince was reacting to his 
movements. While his the fingers on his left hand were sliding in and out 
of Legolas, he used his right hand to grasp the prince’s shaft once more. 
Finding a rhythm, he stroked and penetrated Legolas at the same time.
 
Legolas began to move his body in time to Elladan’s rhythm, feeling 
waves of pleasure wash over him.   
 
Elladan tightened his grip on the prince’s shaft and ran his hand up and 
down the length firmly while still sliding his fingers in and out of Legolas.
 
Legolas could feel a knot form in his belly and somehow managed to say, 
“Please stop, Elladan. I… I shall be spent in only a moment if you 
continue.”
 
“But that is my plan,” Elladan said, never ceasing his movements. “I will 
spend you more than once until you cry my name.”
 
Legolas could feel the fire in his loins and knew that he wouldn’t last 
much longer.
 
Elladan moved his hands faster and harder until Legolas shuddered and 
moaned and his seed spilled forth over Elladan’s hand.
 
The prince trembled all over, breathing heavily, as Elladan withdrew his 
fingers and released his now flaccid member. 
 
Elladan climbed on top of Legolas and kissed his lips tenderly. 
 
The prince gave in to the kiss, deciding that he liked the new Elladan. 
Legolas wondered what his lover would do next. 
 
Elladan continued to kiss the prince and then sat up, realizing that the fact 
that Legolas’ upper body was propped up would come in quite handy. He 
straddled Legolas, moving close to his face, his aching member was only 
inches away from the prince’s mouth.
 
Elladan didn’t have to tell Legolas what to do. The prince opened his 
mouth and guided Elladan’s long shaft into it. He sucked hard, making 
sure to pay extra attention to the tip.
 
Elladan threw his head back and grasped the prince’s shoulders, trying not 
to thrust forward to forcefully.
 
Legolas loved the way Elladan tasted bitter sweet. He licked the head of 
his lover’s shaft and smiled when Elladan whimpered.
 
Elladan let go of Legolas’ shoulders and lowered his body so they could 
look one another in the eyes. “I want to trade places.”
 
Legolas nodded. With ease, the warriors changed positions. Elladan laid 
on his back, propping his upper body against the pillows and Legolas got 
on top of Elladan, in between his legs. 
 
The warriors began to kiss again, rubbing their crotches together and 
moaning.
 
Legolas could feel his member hardening again and gasped when the 
heads of their shafts rubbed together.
 
“I want you now,” Elladan whispered.
 
Legolas met Elladan’s eyes and was once again surprised by the darkness 
within them.
 
Elladan pushed the prince’s shoulders, urging him to sit up.
 
Legolas obeyed by getting off of Elladan and sitting at the foot of the bed. 
 
Elladan reached for the bottle of oil, but the prince intercepted him, 
grabbing it first. 
 
“Is this for me or for you?”
 
“It is for me,” Elladan said huskily.
 
“Then, you wish to ride me?”
 
“Aye.”
 
“But why did we change positions? Shouldn’t I be on my back?”
 
Elladan smiled. “Not this time.” He poured some oil onto his hands, 
placed the bottle back onto the nightstand and began to lubricate his thick 
shaft. He gasped softly as he spread the oil all over his member, and then 
looked at Legolas. “Come here.”
 
The prince approached Elladan, not really sure what he was supposed to 
do. 
 
Elladan patted his lap and Legolas began to understand. He straddled the 
Rivendell warrior, facing him, and placed the opening between his 
buttocks over Elladan’s erect shaft. 
 
Holding on to one of Elladan’s arms for support, the prince used his other 
hand to guide the dark-haired elf’s member inside him. The prince moved 
slowly, lowering himself onto Elladan inch by inch gasping with both 
pleasure and pain as Elladan’s long and thick organ penetrated him. Soon, 
Elladan was fully sheathed within him and they began to rock slowly.
 
Elladan could feel his heart beat quicken. He grasped Legolas’ buttocks, 
pulling them backward and forward with every thrust. 
 
Legolas moaned and grabbed Elladan’s arms, forcing his lover deeper 
inside of him.
 
Elladan began to thrust harder and deeper. He could clearly see where 
their bodies were joined and could hear Legolas moaning with pleasure. 
He began pumping even harder and smiled when Legolas called his name.
 
“Elladan!” Nothing made sense anymore to the prince. The room was 
swirling around in shades of green and blue. His skin was on fire his 
member was on fire. He placed his hands on the burning pillar of flesh 
between his own legs and began to stroke it as Elladan thrust beneath him. 
He could hear Elladan moaning, begging. He moved his body until it 
ached, until he thought the pleasure would tear him in half. Elladan moved 
against the sweet spot now, over and over again, until Legolas could feel 
tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he 
should scream or cry, but he never wanted to let go of this moment. He 
wanted to be with Elladan forever. He heard Elladan shout and felt warm 
liquid fill his body and then felt himself shudder as his body climaxed. His 
seed spilled out over his hand, but he hardly noticed. He was drunk with 
pleasure and collapsed on Elladan’s chest, panting, wiping the sweat from 
his brow and falling in a deep sleep.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Legolas awakened to find the sunlight shining into the bedchamber. He 
remembered the night before and smiled to himself. He reached over to 
touch Elladan but was surprised when he wasn’t there. Legolas sat up 
suddenly and was startled when he saw Elladan, standing across the room 
staring at him.
 
“Good morning, Legolas.”
 
“Good morning,” Legolas said, feeling very uneasy about the way Elladan 
was looking at him.
 
“I have something for you.”
 
“You do?”
 
“Aye,” Elladan remarked, walking over to the prince. 
 
Legolas hadn’t noticed before, but Elladan had a medium sized box in his 
hands that bore a large grey ribbon.
 
“Open it,” Elladan urged. “It is a gift from me to you.”
 
Legolas took the present and was surprised by its weight. He looked at 
Elladan for a moment but was unable to see his face due to the brightness 
of the sunlight. He shrugged and untied the bow. He removed the lid from 
the box and heard a scream. Inside the box was the head of an elf! Legolas 
looked at Elladan whose face was only now only inches from his. His eyes 
were now black in entirety, with no white at all. Elladan was breathing 
heavily, drool was coming out of the side of his mouth and he snarled like 
a wild beast. He bared his teeth and they were like razor sharp daggers. 
Legolas tried to call for help but it was too late, Elladan used one of his 
claw-like nails to slit the prince’s throat and crept from the room while 
Legolas drowned in his own blood.
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 10: Revelations
 
 
Legolas awakened abruptly, holding his throat and panting. Beads of 
sweat rolled down his face.
 
“What? What is it?” Elladan asked, sitting up suddenly and looking 
around the room.
 
“Get away from me!” Legolas said, leaping from the bed and grabbing 
Elladan’s sword.
 
Elladan stared at the prince in dismay, unsure of what was happening. He 
tried to get off of the bed, but his limbs felt oddly numb and his stomach 
made a strange grumbling noise. Slowly, he climbed out of the bed, trying 
to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room, and made his way 
toward the silhouette of the prince. It was still the middle of the night and 
only the moonlight illuminated the room. “Did you have a nightmare?”
 
“Stay away from me!”
 
“Legolas…”
 
“I mean it! I will kill you if I have to.”
 
“Not again,” Elladan said in exasperation. “The last time you had a 
nightmare and threatened to kill me, I ended up with a black eye.” He 
stopped walking and raised his hands in surrender. “I am not armed, 
Legolas. In fact, I am not clothed. So, unless I am going to beat you 
senseless with one of my five limbs, which is quite possible, then I would 
have to say that you are safe.”
 
“Five limbs?” Legolas asked, still aiming the sword at Elladan.
 
“Aye. I have two arms, two legs and a pillar of muscle between my 
thighs.”
 
Legolas chuckled and lowered the weapon slowly. “Is it really you, 
Elladan?”
 
“Of course it is. Why? Were you expecting someone else?”
 
“Nay… it’s just…”
 
“Just what?” Elladan said, sitting down on the bed and rubbing his aching 
arms and legs.
 
Legolas remained standing, still watching Elladan cautiously before 
continuing. “I had a frightening dream.”
 
“Was it… about you mother?”
 
“Nay,” Legolas said, shaking his head. “It was about you.”
 
“Me?”
 
“Aye.”
 
“Well, what’s so bad about that? After all, I am unbelievably dashing.”
 
“You gave me the head of an elf as a present, then you killed me.”
 
Elladan sighed loudly. “Did Arwen tell you about the time I gave her a 
dead rat as a gift? It is not fair. I made one little mistake and I have never 
been able to overcome it.”
 
Legolas laughed and sat down at the foot of the bed, making sure to keep a 
close watch on Elladan. “You… you weren’t yourself in the dream. You 
were like… like an animal… like an orc.”
 
“Hey! Save the insults for the competition when all five of my limbs are 
beating you and all of the other warriors from Mirkwood and Lothlórien.”
 
Legolas chuckled and shook his head. “I am serious, Elladan.”
 
“It was only a dream, Greenleaf. I would never kill you or give you the 
head of an elf as a gift… unless of course you made me very angry. In that 
case, what I just said would become nullified. I would promptly take up 
my sword and go seek out Arwen.”
 
Legolas put the sword down on the floor and sat in silence.
 
Elladan moved to the foot of the bed, so he could sit next to Legolas. He 
wrapped one of his arms around the prince and kissed him on the temple. 
“You know that I love you and would never hurt you.”
 
“I know,” Legolas said softly.
 
“Then why are you so melancholy?”
 
“I… it’s just that the dream seemed so real. It was so vivid.”
 
“It was only a dream. Don’t think about it. Come back to bed and I will 
hold you in my arms until you fall asleep.”
 
“Nay,” Legolas said even though Elladan’s offer was tempting. “Methinks 
I will go to the stable for a while.”
 
“Indeed? So you do not wish to spend time alone with me, eh? You prefer 
the comfort of a steed to all that I can offer. Perhaps Goel is waiting for 
you in the stable, grazing patiently until his secret lover, Prince Legolas, 
arrives.”
 
Legolas laughed and brushed a stray hair from Elladan’s handsome face. 
“Do you know what I love most about you?”
 
“My fifth limb?”
 
The prince chuckled, cupping Elladan’s chin gently. “I love the way you 
make me laugh. Your sense of humor is your greatest strength; it always 
lightens my heart… even when it is heavy.”
 
“Ah, so you think that I am jesting?” Elladan said, pushing the prince’s 
hand away from his face dramatically. “Fine, go to the stable then. I care 
not. In the meantime, I shall make a **very** nice present for you and tie 
it with a big, grey bow… I wonder if Arwen is sleeping. Before you leave, 
would you tell me where you put my sword?”
 
Legolas smiled and then looked at Elladan, startled. “How did you know 
that the present in my dream was tied with a grey bow?”
 
“I didn’t,” Elladan said, shrugging. “My eyes are grey… that is why I 
chose the color.”
 
Legolas stood up and faced Elladan, moving only inches from the 
Rivendell warrior’s face. The prince looked into Elladan’s eyes and sighed 
with relief when he saw that they were as silvery as the moon.
 
“What is wrong?” 
 
“Nothing,” Legolas said, moving away from Elladan and picking up his 
leggings off of the floor. He put them on hurriedly and then pulled his 
under tunic over his head. He couldn’t find his over tunic but didn’t really 
care; he just wanted to go somewhere alone so he could think.
 
Elladan yawned. “I will come with you, if you wish.”
 
“Nay,” Legolas said sincerely. “You stay here and sleep. I will see you in 
the morn.”
 
“Are you sure?”
 
“Aye.” Legolas kissed Elladan’s lips gently and was a bit surprised to hear 
him groan in pain as he got underneath the covers. “Are you alright?”
 
“I am fine… just a bit tired,” Elladan said sleepily.
 
The prince walked toward the door but stopped abruptly when he heard 
Elladan call to him. “Yes?”
 
“Whose head was in the box… in your dream?”
 
“I… I do not know.”
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Before returning to Elladan’s bedchamber the next morning, Legolas 
bathed and changed his clothes. He had spent the duration of the night 
talking to the horses and thinking about his dream. He decided he was 
overreacting and believed that he had found the source of his disharmony. 
He was going to tell Elladan the truth.
 
On his way to Elladan’s room, he stopped by the kitchen and procured a 
tray full of fresh fruit, warm bread, smoked meat and spicy cider. They 
would dine together and prepare for the opening ceremony of the 
competition. It would be a good day.
 
The prince walked up the stairs and down the hallway. Quietly, he entered 
Elladan’s bedchamber. 
 
Elladan was still sleeping.
 
Legolas walked over to the bed and looked down at his slumbering lover. 
Elladan was so beautiful. The prince lightly fingered the Rivendell 
warrior’s cheek. 
 
Elladan opened his eyes and shrieked, doubling over in agony.
 
“What is it? What is wrong?”
 
“My stomach…”
 
Legolas watched Elladan skeptically as he struggled to sit up.
 
“Help me, Legolas, please?”
 
The prince did as he was asked, by grabbing Elladan’s arm and helping 
him to sit up.
 
“Ai!” Elladan wailed. “My arms… they feel as though they are about to 
fall off. And my legs feel even worse.”
 
“Are you jesting?”
 
“Nay,” Elladan said, slumping forward slightly. “I am in pain.”
 
Legolas shook his head in disbelief. After all, Elladan had been full of 
jests only a few hours ago.
 
Suddenly, Elladan made a strange sound. Despite the pain his aching 
limbs were causing him, he forced himself to stand and staggered toward a 
large vase in the corner of the room. He leaned over the urn, shaking 
violently. A low growl emerged from Elladan’s lips and he heaved, 
expelling a thick, red substance from his mouth.
 
“Elladan!” Legolas shouted. Trying to come to his lover’s aid, but Elladan 
lurched forward again and again, moaning in pain.
 
Elladan could hardly stand. Beads of sweat poured down his ashen face 
and his eyes rolled into his head.
 
“I shall get some help,” Legolas said.
 
“Legolas,” Elladan managed to say. “My leggings. My leggings, please.”
 
“There is no time,” Legolas protested.
 
“Please… Legolas.”
 
Legolas picked Elladan’s leggings off of the floor and helped him put 
them on as quickly as possible.
 
Elladan smiled gratefully at Legolas and then clutched his stomach.  He 
began to vomit more fluid. “Help me, please?” he pleaded, falling to the 
floor.
 
The prince tore from the room and headed for Elrond’s bedchamber. The 
lord was not in his room, so the prince asked a servant where Elrond could 
be found. He was directed to the entrance hall and ran there as fast as he 
could. “Lord Elrond! Lord Elrond!”
 
Elrond, Thranduil, Celeborn and Glorfindel were just about to leave the 
manor to go spend some time together in the grove when they heard 
Legolas calling frantically.
 
“What is it, Legolas? What is wrong?” Elrond said, his eyes laced with 
concern.
 
“It is Elladan. There is something terribly wrong!”
 
“Take me to him,” Elrond said, as he and the other elves ran behind 
Legolas to Elladan’s bedchamber.  
 
“Father,” Elladan said, weakly, as the small group of elves entered the 
room.
 
“Do not speak.” Elrond began trying to assess Elladan’s condition when 
the dark-haired elf jumped up and leaned over the vase and began to expel 
more of the thick liquid. 
 
Celeborn, Glorfindel and Thranduil exchanged concerned looks.
 
Elrond wiped some of the foamy substance from Elladan’s mouth and 
smelled it. “It smells sickly-sweet. Legolas, what did Elladan eat 
yesterday. Did he ingest anything unusual?”
 
“I do not think so.”
 
“Elladan? Elladan,” Elrond said firmly. “Did you eat anything strange 
yesterday? I need you to tell me.”
 
“Nay, Father.” Elladan said softly. “The last thing I ate was some of those 
berries on the nightstand.”
 
“What berries?” Elrond asked, looking around the room.
 
Elladan was very weak, but somehow managed to raise his arm. He 
pointed toward the nightstand.
 
Elrond walked toward the small table and saw a bowl full of beautiful 
berries and gasped. “You ate these?”
 
Elladan nodded weakly.
 
Thranduil chuckled and Legolas felt his face turn bright red.
 
Elrond sighed with relief. “Glorfindel, would you go to the healing room 
and bring my flask of Myrtle Root Juice and one of the cups that is in the 
cupboard?”
 
“Right away,” Glorfindel said, bowing and rushing out of the room.
 
Moments later the chief marchwarden was back and handed the flask to 
Elrond. 
 
The lord pulled the cork out of the bottle and poured some into the small 
cup that Glorfindel had brought. “Here Elladan, drink this. It will relieve 
you symptoms right away.” He helped his son drink some of the burgundy 
colored juice.
 
Elladan winced at the acrid taste of the liquid but felt the majority of the 
pain leaving his body immediately. His stomach no longer grumbled and 
the aching in his arms and legs diminished greatly. He sat up and looked at 
his father. “Thank you.”
 
“You are welcome,” Elrond said.
 
“What kind of berries are those?”
 
Elrond smiled. “They are called Season Berries or Elf Berries and are a 
native plant of Mirkwood. This summer, I wrote to Legolas and asked him 
if he would bring some to Rivendell. I haven’t seen the berries since I 
studied healing in Mirkwood many years ago and wanted to use them in 
some new herbal remedies that I am working on. They are called Season 
Berries because they change color, just like the leaves. However, unlike 
the leaves, they do not die, which is why some healers refer to them as Elf 
Berries. They are quite powerful and can draw out the most toxic venom, 
when crushed and used as a poultice and can also stop bleeding. When 
ingested, however, these berries are very potent indeed and are best known 
for their powers as a sexual stimulant.”
 
Elladan’s eyes widened and he looked at Legolas, whose face was pinker 
than the berries.
 
“Supposedly, they bring out animal instincts in meek lovers, barring 
inhibitions and encouraging… staying power,” Elrond explained. “I have 
heard that when they are eaten, many strange side effects can occur… 
stomach ache, stiffness and soreness of the limbs, temporary paralysis, 
change in eye color, emotional outbursts and many more.”
 
Legolas sighed with relief. *So that’s why his eyes changed color; it was 
the berries.*
 
“But why did I become ill? Elves do not get sick, do they?”
 
“Nay,” Elrond said. “Then again, Season Berries are not native to 
Rivendell; I have never known anyone who has actually ingested them… I 
have only seen them at work when applied on an injury. How many did 
you eat?”
 
“I do not know… ten maybe.”
 
“Ten? No wonder you became ill… even as a poultice only two or three 
berries are used. Do not forget, many of the vegetation that grows in elvish 
realms are enchanted; that is why they are so powerful… the Valar has 
touched them. Be glad that you are an elf; you would have died if you 
were human.”
 
Elladan nodded his head slowly, cringing when he saw the smirk on 
Thranduil’s face.
 
“Perhaps I should take these, before more harm comes from them.”
 
“I… I didn’t know he had eaten them,” Legolas said to his father.
 
Thranduil nodded, even though he didn’t believe a word Legolas was 
saying. 
 
“We will take our leave now,” Elrond said, taking the bowl of berries. 
 
“Do you think I will be well enough to participate in the opening 
ceremony this afternoon?” Elladan asked hopefully.
 
Legolas smiled to himself suddenly. He had forgotten about the opening 
ceremony. He was really looking forward to it. 
 
“Aye,” Elrond replied. “You should be completely healed by midday. You 
should be careful to avoid any… strenuous activities until this afternoon, 
however.”
 
Elladan felt his face redden. “Aye, Father.”
 
Elrond, Celeborn and Elrond left Elladan’s bedchamber and when they 
rounded the corner, they nearly ran headfirst into Haldir.
 
“Begging your pardon, my Lords,” Haldir said, bowing deeply. 
 
Thranduil grinned at Glorfindel for a moment and then spoke in his usual 
kingly manner. “Do not fret, Haldir. We did not see you either.”
 
Haldir raised his head and smiled, glancing at Glorfindel and blushing 
slightly. “Good… good morn, Glorfindel.”
 
“Hello, Haldir.”
 
Haldir looked down at the floor diffidently then looked up slowly, meeting 
the elder’s eyes. “Have you seen my brothers? I am looking for them.”
 
“I spoke to them very early this morn,” Celeborn said. “They didn’t want 
to disturb your sleep. They told me that they were going to the stables. 
You may be able to catch up with them if you hurry.”
 
“Thank you, my Lord,” Haldir said bowing again. He glanced at 
Glorfindel once more before rushing down the stairs and out of the 
entrance hall.
 
The king grinned. “Glorfindel, perhaps you should take a few of the 
Season Berries. I am certain the pup would enjoy them.”
 
Glorfindel smiled and shook his head.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
“Are you alright?” Legolas asked Elladan.
 
“I feel much better, but I am very embarrassed. Why did my grandfather, 
Glorfindel and your father have to come in here?”
 
“They were worried about you.”
 
“I guess,” Elladan said, sighing.
 
“So…” Elladan began slowly. “Was last night better? Was I different? 
Was I like… an animal?”
 
“Last night was wonderful,” Legolas said, “but it is always pleasurable 
with you.”
 
“So you liked the effect that the berries had on me?”
 
“It was a nice change.”
 
“Good,” Elladan said, opening his hand. He had about ten berries in his 
hand.
 
Legolas eyes widened.
 
“Just in case,” Elladan said, grinning.
 
“You do not need them,” Legolas said.
 
“Who said that they berries were for me?” Elladan asked, smiling 
deviously.
 
Legolas laughed and threw a pillow at the Rivendell warrior, who ducked 
just before it hit his head.
 
Elladan laughed and walked over to a table that was beside a large 
window in the room and looked at the food that had been placed on the 
table. “You did this?”
 
“Aye,” Legolas said, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “I wanted 
to surprise you with breakfast.”
 
Elladan smiled. “I’m afraid that I am not very hungry.”
 
“Me neither,” Legolas admitted. 
 
Elladan poured some cider for himself and drank. “Would you like some?”
 
“Nay.”
 
Elladan could still taste the bitterness of the berries in his mouth and drank 
and drank until the putrid flavor was gone. “I need to wash out the vase. 
Elladan looked around the room but did not see the urn anywhere.
 
“Your grandfather took it,” Legolas said. “He probably is going to have it 
cleaned.”
 
“Oh.”
 
“Elladan…” the prince began slowly. 
 
“Aye.”
 
“I… I need to talk to you.”
 
“You sound so serious,” Elladan said, walking toward the prince.
 
“I am,” Legolas said. “I wasn’t completely honest with you yesterday 
evening.”
 
“What do you mean?” Elladan asked, sitting down on the bed beside the 
prince.
 
“Yesterday, you asked me about what happened in the forest. I told you 
that Makail was worried for no reason… that he was overreacting. I… I 
lied.”
 
“You lied?”
 
“Aye. I didn’t want to tell you that I became terrified when we passed 
through the woods on our way back to Rivendell. I didn’t want anyone to 
know.”  
 
“You became terrified?” Elladan asked, his voice full of concern. “Why?”
 
“Because the last time I passed through those woods, we were ambushed 
by orcs.”
 
“Oh, Legolas,” Elladan said, placing his hand on the prince’s shoulder. “I 
had forgotten about that. You saved Arwen’s life.”
 
“I did… but if you recall, I also froze in the midst of battle. It was soon 
after my mother’s death… too soon. I could hear her screaming. It 
happened again yesterday.” 
 
“What happened?”
 
“I could feel terror on the wind… I remember my mother… the orcs. I 
could hear her screaming, smell the stench of blood…”
 
“Do you think that was the reason for your dream last night?” Elladan 
asked. “Do you think that you had the dream because of what happened in 
the woods?”
 
“Yes,” Legolas said. “I still have nightmares sometimes. But they had 
diminished… until now.”
 
“What do you mean?”
 
“The dream I had last night was so real. I could feel the weight of the gift 
in my hands. I felt terror when I saw the head, and agony when you slit my 
throat. I could feel my life slipping away… I could taste the blood in my 
mouth.”
 
“But it was only a dream,” Elladan said, stroking the prince’s hair 
reassuringly. “I am so sorry I was not by your side when that happened. 
My time has been torn between my love for Elrohir and my love for you. 
Will you forgive me?”
 
“There is nothing to forgive,” Legolas said, looking into Elladan’s eyes. A 
brief silence passed between the lovers before Legolas spoke. “Do… do 
you ever think about her?”
 
“Who?”
 
“Your mother?”
 
Elladan pulled away from the prince and stood up. He walked to the 
window and looked out. “There is not a day that passes that she is not on 
my mind. Especially after what I saw in Gaidon.”
 
“What did you see?”
 
“Taran’s mother… she looked very much like my mother.”
 
“So that is why you and the others were staring at her. I had wondered 
about that,” Legolas said.
 
A soft clap of thunder rumbled in the distance and a gentle spring rain 
began to fall.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said softly. “To see her hold Taran in her arms… I 
remembered when I was a child and my mother would hold me.”
 
Legolas didn’t know what to say. Elladan’s voice was breaking and his 
pain was evident in his words. But Celebrían had been gone for a couple 
of years now, yet the agony of her departure was still so near. The prince 
rose to his feet and walked toward his lover. 
 
“When I was little, the thunder used to frighten me. My mother would 
hold me in her arms and sing to me. Sometimes I fell asleep, and other 
times I just listened to the beat of her heart while she held me close. 
Whenever it rains, I think of her… and wonder if it rains in the west. I 
wonder… if it thunders… and if it does… does she think of me?” 
Elladan’s voice broke and tears ran down his face.
 
Legolas stood behind Elladan and wrapped his arms around his waist. 
“Your father told me much about your mother when I was learning the art 
of healing with him. I am certain that she thinks about you often, and 
hopes to see you someday.”
 
“I failed her,” Elladan said softly. “She always protected me from my 
fears. When the time came… I could not protect her from hers.”
 
“You and Elrohir saved her life,” Legolas said, still holding Elladan close 
to him.
 
“I am not so sure anymore,” Elladan said, shaking his head. “We saved 
her… yes. But did we really save her life? We rescued her body… her 
outer self. But the mother I knew… the one who was always jesting… the 
one who held me in her arms and sang me to sleep is gone forever. Her 
soul was lost… we only saved her flesh.”
 
Legolas could feel Elladan trembling in his arms. He wanted to comfort 
his lover, to tell him that everything would be alright, but Elladan’s 
sadness was so deep that it permeated their surroundings. The prince 
looked around the room and gasped. Everything was so bleak, there was 
no sun or clouds above and the sky was the color of the fog after a storm.
 
“Legolas?” Elladan asked, turning to look at the prince.
 
Legolas felt as though a veil had been lifted from his eyes and he could 
suddenly see clearly again. The room looked normal again, as did 
everything else.
 
“I… I am sorry for behaving like a child,” Elladan said, walking toward 
the bed. “Methinks the berries are still having some sort of strange effect. 
Perhaps the sentiment I just displayed was an emotional outburst that was 
caused by the berries.”
 
“Aye, I am sure that is what it was,” Legolas said, smiling at his lover and 
not believing a word that Elladan had just said.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Haldir had been unsuccessful; he hadn’t been able to find his brothers. So, 
he went for a walk along an unfamiliar path. The rain didn’t deter him 
from his stroll. On the contrary, Haldir loved the rain. The spring shower 
stopped suddenly and golden beams of light peered through the storm 
clouds above. He inhaled sharply and smiled, looking up above; he had 
found the perfect spot. Haldir climbed an enormous tree and sat on a thick, 
sturdy limb. Placing his back against the trunk of the tree, he stretched one 
leg out, allowing the branch to support it, and allowed the other to flank 
the limb, swinging his leg slowly. He pulled a small book of poems out of 
a pocket that was on the inside of his tunic and began to read.
 
The king, the two lords and the marchwarden were surprised to see Haldir 
sitting in the large tree when they arrived at the grove. 
 
Haldir, on the other hand, was so engrossed in his reading that he didn’t 
notice the appearance of the elder elves.
 
“Hello, Haldir,” Celeborn said. “Did you not find your brothers?”
 
Haldir looked down and was shocked to see the small cluster of elves 
standing below him. He nearly cringed when he saw Glorfindel. He didn’t 
want to think about how terrible he must look with wet hair and clothes. *I 
must seem so childish and undignified. * Trying to maintain his 
composure, he smiled politely. “Nay, Lord. One of the stable hands told 
me that my brothers went riding. So, I decided to go for a walk. I am 
terribly sorry; I did not know that you were going to convene here. I shall 
take my leave at once.”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said abruptly. “We do not possess this land. You were 
here first. We shall be the ones to leave.”
 
“Begging your pardon, Sire,” Haldir said, leaping gracefully out of the 
tree. “It is true that you, nor your kinsman, own the land… you rule it. I 
am only reading some prose, my affairs are of little importance compared 
to the dealings of rulers. With all due respect, your Lordship, I will excuse 
myself and leave you and yours to do what you will.”
 
Thranduil was very impressed by Haldir. He was poised, well spoken and 
looked rather edible in damp, clingy clothing. He wished that he could 
immerse Elrond in a nearby pond. Glancing at Elrond’s taut, leggings-clad 
thighs for a moment, the king met Haldir’s eyes. “You are well-bred, 
Haldir. Your countenance impresses me.”
 
“Thank you, Sire,” Haldir said bowing deeply.
 
Celeborn smiled to himself. He knew that Thranduil did not give idle 
compliments. Although Haldir was not his son, it pleased the lord to hear 
him be praised.
 
“I insist that you remain here,” Thranduil said. “If it is alright with my 
companions, we will take a leisurely walk through the realm this day.” 
The king observed his comrades.
 
Elrond nodded, as did Celeborn, silently agreeing to the king’s suggestion. 
 
Glorfindel nodded as well when the king met his eyes, trying to ignore the 
hint of mischief he saw imbedded in them.
 
“It is settled then,” Thranduil said matter-of-factly. “You will stay here 
and we will leave.”
 
“As you wish, Sire,” Haldir said bowing again. 
 
The elders left the grove and Haldir climbed back into the tree. He stared 
at the back of Glorfindel’s head a bit sadly until he could see him no 
longer.  
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Elladan, Elrohir and the Mirkwood princes traversed a scenic path that 
meandered through the Emerald realm. 
 
Legolas looked around as he walked, admiring the unique beauty that 
Rivendell possessed. Now that he had seen all three realms, he believed 
that Rivendell was the most beautiful. Nothing seemed to compare to the 
multiple streams, brooks and rivers that were scattered throughout the land 
and the cozy looking homes that were nestled in the hills warmed his 
heart.
 
Elladan stopped abruptly and Legolas nearly ran into the back of him. 
 
“What is it?” Legolas asked.
 
“Look there… in the distance,” Elladan said, pointing to a large tree.
 
“It’s Haldir,” Dace said.
 
“Aye,” Elladan said, grinning. “Let’s go have some fun.”
 
“Elladan, you should leave him be,” Legolas said warningly. “So far, 
nothing good has come from your jests with Haldir.”
 
“Oh, Legolas,” Elladan said in exasperation. “Do not spoil my fun. 
Teasing Haldir is a delight. Do not fear, nothing grievous will happen.”
 
Legolas shook his head. He wasn’t sure about this.
 
“Oy there, Haldir!” Elladan shouted as they approached the large tree. 
 
“Hello,” Haldir said, peering downward.
 
“What are you doing up there?” Elrohir asked.
 
“Reading,” Haldir replied, returning his attention to his book.
 
“Do not listen to him, Elrohir,” Elladan said. “He is hiding from us… that 
is why he is in the tree.”
 
“And why would I hide from you?” Haldir asked, looked down once 
again.
 
“The opening ceremony is this afternoon and you know that Lothlórien 
will be horribly defeated. It is okay. I will ask the warriors from Rivendell 
not to crush you too badly.”
 
Haldir scoffed, “Say what you will Elladan, but defeat shall be yours. You 
know the warriors of Lórien are far superior to those of Rivendell. You 
will need to climb up a tree when the competition is over, because you 
will be so humiliated by your horrific defeat.”
 
“Is that a fact?” Elladan asked, placing his hands on his hips indignantly.
 
“It is.”
 
“Well, why don’t we have a competition right now?”  
 
“What sort of competition?” Haldir asked.
 
Elladan looked around and grinned. “How about a mud fight? Whoever is 
covered in the most mud will lose. You must use your skill as a warrior to 
deflect and avoid the mud balls. If you get hit, then a point will be taken 
away.”
 
“That is ridiculous,” Haldir said. “I am not going to brawl in the muck like 
a human.”
 
“Indeed?” Elladan asked, bending down and scooping up some wet dirt in 
his hands. 
 
“Don’t you dare!” Haldir exclaimed, but it was too late, Elladan launched 
the globule at the marchwarden’s head. Luckily, Haldir was quick. He 
used his free hand to swat the ball of mud downward; it changed direction 
and landed on top of Elladan’s head.
 
Elrohir and the others laughed, especially Dace, who jumped up and down 
and pointed at Elladan.
 
The sticky mud, slid down the sides of Elladan’s face. He was not amused. 
“Oh, so you think that this is funny, do you, Dace?” Elladan reached on 
top of his head, grasping what sludge was left on his head and threw it at 
Dace.
 
Dace jumped out of the way just in time and the mud hit Makail in the 
face. 
 
Elladan began to laugh, as did Elrohir.
 
Makail bent down, forming a large ball of muck with his hands and threw 
it at Elrohir. His aim was true. The slush hit the center Elrohir’s tunic, 
almost knocking him over.
 
Elrohir retaliated by throwing a mud ball back at Makail, but he grabbed 
Legolas to use him as a shield. The mud hit the youngest prince in the face 
and covered his whole head. 
 
Everyone laughed and a massive mud fight began. Mud flew wildly 
through the air. Even Haldir, as high up as he was still got a bit of mud on 
him from time to time. He shook his head in dismay and then froze. The 
elders were coming! “Stop, stop. Makail, Elladan, Dace…” Haldir 
pleaded, but it was of little use. The young warrior were so engrossed in 
their fighting that they did not sense the rulers rounding the bend.
 
“Ha, ha! Take this you cur!” Dace yelled and launched an enormous 
globule. Legolas jumped out of the way and the mud made a loud splat as 
it hit Thranduil in the chest.
 
Everything in Rivendell seemed to freeze in that very moment.   
 
Thranduil looked so cross that even the birds seemed to sense it. A mass 
of them flew away and two deer fled from the underbrush.
 
Legolas, Dace and Makail stared at their father, openmouthed. They knew 
their father did not take kindly to jests and foolishness such as this would 
be harshly punished.
 
Elladan started to speak but was rendered silent by the anger on the king’s 
face.
 
“I think we need to have a little talk,” Thranduil said, glaring at his sons.
 
--- 
 
 
 
Chapter 11: Swordplay
 
A/N: For many book fans, the debate about Glorfindel and the fact that 
there are (possibly – depending on your point of view) two elves with this 
name are hotly debated. Some argue that the two Glorfindels are the same 
character while others believe that Tolkien created two separate 
characters. In all honesty, I have not taken a side on this debate. However, 
the idea of Glorfindel arisen from the dead intrigues me. So, I have 
decided to adopt this idea for the purpose of my story. Enjoy! :o)

 
The king ushered his sons into a meeting room in the Mirkwood 
guesthouse, glaring at them unmercifully. His mud-splattered tunic was a 
harsh reminder of his sons’ folly. “Of all the ostentatious, impetuous and 
unforgiving behavior… and in the presence of three of the most noble 
elves I know!” Thranduil shouted, rounding on his crestfallen children. “I 
am so angry that I want to send all of you back to Mirkwood.”
 
“But, Father…” Makail began.
 
“I do not recall saying that you were allowed to speak, Makail,” Thranduil 
snapped. “I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You are in the most danger 
of being sent home. Do you realize that you have angered me twice since 
we have been here? This is your last chance, Second Born. If you fail me 
again, you will be sent home. Do you understand me?”
 
“Aye, Father,” Makail said, looking at the floor.
 
“I have already decided on your punishment.”
 
The room was silent.
 
“You will not be allowed to attend the opening ceremony this afternoon.”
 
Legolas, Makail and Dace exchanged defeated looks but remained silent.
 
“Obviously, I cannot trust you to act like the Mirkwood princes that I 
raised,” Thranduil continued, “and I simply refuse for you to make a 
mockery of our realm.”
 
“But… but Father,” Dace said softly. “Tialise and I were supposed to 
attend the opening ceremony together today. If I am not there, she is sure 
to think that I abandoned her.
 
The king folded his arms across his chest and stared at his son angrily. “It 
amazes me that you could concern yourself with something so foolish, 
Dace. You are in the most trouble, since you are the one who hit me with a 
ball of mud!”
 
Dace cowered.
 
“Methinks this… this Tialise is too young for you. She is a bad 
influence… she is a child and you are behaving like one, so I can only 
assume that your recent foolery is a result of her infantile sway. You will 
not go to the opening ceremony and you will not speak to Tialise this day. 
The only thing you will attend to is my tunic, which needs to be cleaned!”
 
“Aye, Father,” Dace said quietly.
 
“And you,” the king said, turning his attention to Legolas, “I have no 
doubt as to who the source of this madness was. It had to be the foolish 
man-elf who you are to wed. I can honestly say that Elladan’s immaturity 
is inexcusable. For all of his years, he behaves like a child.”
 
Legolas wanted to defend Elladan; he wanted to say something, but the 
anger in his father’s eyes silenced him. He knew that anything he could 
say would only make matters worse.
 
“I am so disappointed in all of you. You have disgraced, not only me, but 
our realm.”
 
The king’s words cut deep. To let their father down was a terrible feeling. 
Despite his firmness, the princes loved their father. 
 
“You are to remain here, in the Mirkwood guest house, for the duration of 
the day. Your punishment is over at dawn,” Thranduil said. Shaking his 
head, he left the meeting hall.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
The king of Mirkwood entered Elrond’s assembly room looking more than 
a bit cross and more beautiful than ever. Elrond gasped softly but tried to 
maintain his composure in front of Thranduil. It was obvious that the king 
had just taken a bath; he was practically glistening. Thranduil was wearing 
a handsome, deep blue colored tunic that was outfitted with ornate 
embroidery of the same color. His sable leggings clung to his legs, 
outlining his sheer godlike physique. 
 
Elrond marveled at the style of the king’s hair. It looked damp and was 
woven into a single plait. The golden rays of the sun flooded into the large 
room enhancing the ecru highlights in Thranduil’s hair. Loose tresses 
framed the king’s face, making him look especially comely. His cheeks 
were suffused in a deep red color and his eyes did not possess the arrogant 
glint that was characteristic of the king.
 
“Have you seen Celeborn?” Thranduil asked, interrupting Elrond’s 
thoughts.
 
“Nay,” Elrond replied, tearing his eyes away from the king’s heavenly 
form, and trying not to let his eyes wander back to those muscular legs. 
 
“I went to the Lórien guest house, but no one was there,” Thranduil 
continued.
 
“Aye. Celeborn and his charges went into the forest. They are preparing 
for the opening ceremony,” Elrond explained.
 
“Oh,” Thranduil said, sighing.
 
“What ails you, Thranduil?” Elrond asked.
 
“My sons,” Thranduil said, shaking his head.
 
“Ah,” Elrond said, nodding his head slowly. “I assume that they were 
harshly punished.”
 
“Not harshly enough for my liking,” Thranduil said. He paused for a 
moment but continued speaking when he saw the curious look in Elrond’s 
eyes. “I only forbade them from attending the opening ceremony and all of 
the festivities this day.”
 
“And you do not think that is harsh?” Elrond asked, arching one of his 
delicate brown eyebrows.
 
Thranduil felt a surge of desire spread through his body, like the rays of 
the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. Pushing his lust aside, 
he spoke. “I could have sent them home. It would a be more fitting 
punishment for their horrific behavior.”
 
“Oh, come now,” Elrond said gently. “They did no harm. They are callow; 
the cares of this world are kept at bay by their youth. Do not be angry with 
them for jesting.”
 
“You do not understand,” Thranduil began.
 
“But I do,” Elrond interrupted. “You seek to prepare your sons for a 
throne that will never be theirs. You will live forever, King of the Emerald 
Realm. I understand your desire to mold them. But to so harshly admonish 
them… that I do not understand. Your sons are the epitome of royalty and 
goodness. You should be proud.”
 
“I am proud… and I love my sons,” Thranduil said. “But our realm is 
unlike Lórien and Rivendell. Mirkwood has been alone for long years. I 
know that the alienation of Mirkwood was my own doing but times in the 
Emerald realm have been hard. The orcs grow bolder every day and seem 
to attack us at will. I may not live forever, Elrond. My sons must be ready 
to claim lordship over Mirkwood if I fall. The cares of this world will be 
kept at bay no longer if I should die.”
 
Elrond furrowed his brow. “But Joren is the crown prince. The reign of 
Mirkwood will fall to him if something happens to you. Makail, Dace and 
Legolas do not have his burden.”
 
“But they do,” Thranduil corrected. “It is why Areen and I decided to have 
four children. I was an only child… forced to bear the full burden of 
royalty. When my father died… I did not know who to trust. I didn’t know 
who should stand at my right and who should attend my left. My wife was 
my most trusted companion and my childhood friend, Goel, served me 
well… but others failed me. It was only through miserable trial and error 
that I was able to reform my kingdom, as nearly the entire royal house 
perished in battle when my father fell. I was ill equipped, but my sons will 
not be. Joren will have his brothers; they will help him to rule. Should 
something happen to me, he will not have to wonder whom to trust. He 
will have Makail, his right, and Dace, his left, and Legolas, at his back. 
They will be quite a force to contend with. And yet, after all I have done… 
I have somehow failed them. They pretend to be royal warriors… yet I 
find them throwing mud like children!”
 
“Even the most noble of warriors needs to laugh” Elrond said, walking 
toward the king. “Laughter will keep their hearts from growing cold. For 
all of the strength of elves, we still need happiness to warm our souls.”
 
“Perhaps,” Thranduil said. “But they can jest in a civilized manner; they 
do not have to behave like animals. I have raised them better than this! 
And for Celeborn to see… I am so ashamed. We have only just created an 
alliance with Lothlórien, and I would hate to see it fail. I consider you to 
be my friend… I do not think that you would judge Mirkwood as harshly 
as the Lord of Lórien, who hardly knows me. That is why I was looking 
for him. I wanted to apologize for my sons. I hope his view of Mirkwood 
has not been tainted.”
 
“I am certain that it has not been,” Elrond said, smiling. “Do not forget 
who his grandsons are.”
 
“How could I?” Thranduil said a bit coolly. 
 
Elrond ignored the king’s comment and grinned. “So, civilized jesting is 
acceptable then?”
 
“I suppose,” Thranduil said slowly. “Why?”
 
“Because you could use a good jest… it would seem,” Elrond said a bit 
slyly. “And you could also use the practice.”
 
“Practice?” Thranduil said, furrowing his brow.
 
“Aye,” Elrond said, smiling. “I thought that it was quite clever of you to 
suggest that the competition be limited to the younger elves… and that we 
rulers are judges. You wanted to save yourself from embarrassment. It is 
just as well; I would have utterly humiliated you in front of all the 
realms.”
 
Thranduil’s mouth fell open, and Elrond felt the bulge in his leggings 
harden. The king’s mouth was without flaw, and Elrond couldn’t help but 
wonder what that perfect tongue could do to him.
 
“I… I have never heard you speak this way, Elrond,” Thranduil 
stammered. “What has come over you?”
 
Elrond paused for a moment and asked himself the same question and 
shrugged. “You do not know me as well as you think you do. I may be a 
healer and a lord but I was a warrior long before my title. And if my 
memory serves me correctly, I believe that kings… particularly elvish 
kings, do not like to dirty their delicate hands.”
 
Thranduil scoffed. “You are quite mistaken, Elrond,” he said, walking 
toward the lord of Rivendell. “I suggested that we elder elves judge the 
competition because we would utterly destroy the younger elves’ chances 
for victory. We have fought in many battles. Our skill outweighs our 
youthful counterparts by thousands of years; there would be no 
competition. **I** would win every contest and then the fun would end.”
 
“**You** would win every contest?” Elrond asked.
 
“Aye,” Thranduil said, smiling deviously. “You see, unlike you, I was 
trained by the best, so that I could be the best. I am superb at everything. I 
can speak Quenya, Sindarin and the common tongue. I can play the lute. I 
have been formally trained in more than twenty kinds of dances. I can 
sculpt and carve wood, as well as wield a sword, a knife and a bow. I am a 
negotiator. And, if you must know,” Thranduil said, moving very close to 
Elrond, “I have even been trained in the art of intimacy. What say you to 
that?”
 
Elrond smiled. “It is with a heavy heart that you would lose to me, then. I 
am sure that the disappointment of losing would be quite devastating, but 
with all of your **many** accomplishments, I am certain that your rather 
inflated opinion of yourself will heal… eventually.”
 
Thranduil laughed. “It sounds as though you are trying to challenge me.”
 
“I am not **trying** to challenge you, Thranduil,” Elrond said, meeting 
the king’s eyes. “I **am** challenging you.”
 
Thranduil raised both of his eyebrows for a moment and then smiled. 
“Very well. What do you have in mind?”
 
Elrond walked over to the easternmost corner of the room and picked up 
an elegant sword that was lying across a long marble table. Holding the 
sword in front of him, Elrond smiled. 
 
Thranduil did not speak. Instead, he grasped a sword that had been placed 
on a table on the opposite side of the room. Picking it up, he twirled the 
sword easily, showing off his superb form and superior manner.
 
Elrond gasped softly. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t think it was possible 
for Thranduil to look even more beautiful than he had earlier, but as 
always that king had outdone himself. With a sword in his hand, Thranduil 
looked the part of a deadly warrior and Elrond now wondered if he could 
defeat him.
 
“Are you frightened, Elrond?” Thranduil asked smugly.
 
“Only of your reaction when you lose,” Elrond said, quickly regaining his 
composure.
 
The king grinned.
 
Elrond saw the familiar expression return to Thranduil’s eyes. 
 
Holding out his sword, the king stared at Elrond haughtily. “Let us begin.”
 
Elrond struck out at the king at once, their weapons connecting with a loud 
clanging sound. The swordplay had begun.
 
Just as Elrond suspected, Thranduil was a worthy opponent. His form was 
as beauteous as he was, fluid… nearly perfect. However, he was no fool. 
He had studied swordsmanship for thousands of years and was able to 
counter the king’s attacks.
 
Thranduil realized that he had underestimated the lord of Rivendell. 
Elrond was quite skilled. He allowed his eyes to quickly glance at the way 
Elrond grasped his sword and felt a surge of arousal take hold. The king 
wished that Elrond would hold **his** sword that way.  
 
Thranduil’s momentary distraction gave Elrond the advantage he had been 
waiting for. Without warning, he altered his strategy and almost knocked 
the sword from the king’s hands.
 
Thranduil responded quickly and clumsily, breaking his form for a 
moment. Regaining his composure, the swords met in mid air again, 
clashing loudly. Thranduil smiled wickedly. “You are quite skilled for a 
mere Rivendell elf.”
 
“You are not the only one who is good at everything.”
 
“Apparently not,” the king said. “You are not the docile lord that you 
pretend to be.”
 
“Docile?” Elrond said as their swords met again.
 
“Aye, docile,” Thranduil said, smirking. “You reminded me of one of 
those little deer… you know, the ones with the white spots on their flank.”
 
Elrond scoffed. He changed his strategy and began fighting more fiercely.
 
The king laughed. “You might as well give up. I could win this fight in 
only a moment’s time.”
 
“Indeed?” Elrond asked as their swords met in the air once again. “I do not 
believe you. You are only saying that to sway my confidence, but it will 
not work.”
 
“I am not trying to sway your confidence. It is just that I can plainly see 
your weakness,” Thranduil said simply.
 
Elrond tried not to react to what the king had just said. “What do you 
mean?” he asked casually.
 
“You have a tendency to drop your right shoulder, and it is interfering 
with your form,” Thranduil explained. 
 
Elrond felt his heart sink. Dropping his shoulder had always been a failing 
in his swordsmanship. His mentor, Gil-galad, had always tried to rid him 
of this habit, but to no avail.
 
“Your defeat will be swift, I promise you. Then we can go and eat. I am 
suddenly famished,” Thranduil said, preparing to stage his final attack.
 
Elrond had decided that he was not going to lose. He waited for the king to 
strike. Thranduil lunged forward suddenly, but Elrond was ready. Acting 
quickly, the lord of Rivendell stepped aside and used his sword to cut 
down a window veil that was next to them. Thranduil hesitated for only a 
moment, but it was just enough time for Elrond to clip the king’s right 
arm, which caused Thranduil’s sword to fall to the floor. Elrond smiled 
victoriously.
 
“You cheated!” Thranduil exclaimed.
 
“I did not,” Elrond said, grinning. “All is fair in war.”
 
“This isn’t a war… it’s… it’s civilized swordplay!”
 
“Nonetheless, you lost,” Elrond said.
 
Thranduil shook his head and smiled. “You knew I was going to defeat 
you, didn’t you?”
 
“Aye,” Elrond admitted. “Can you honestly blame me for resorting to 
foolery to win?”
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said, smiling. “But now I see where Elladan gets his 
foolery from.”
 
Elrond chuckled.
 
“You know, you could have disarmed me without trying to take off my 
arm.”
 
“What?” Elrond asked, looking at the king curiously. And then he saw it – 
bright red blood was dripping on the floor and Thranduil was cradling his 
wounded arm. “Did I do that?” Elrond asked, walking toward the king.
 
“Aye,” Thranduil said. “It is only a flesh wound. I will be fine.”
 
“Nay,” Elrond said. “Let me look at it.”
 
“It is fine,” Thranduil protested.
 
“No it is not,” Elrond said. Carefully, he grasped Thranduil’s right hand 
and peeled back the bloody sleeve. He revealed a gash that extended from 
the king’s wrist and midway up his forearm. Luckily, the wound was not 
deep. “I need to clean and wrap your injury. The wound is shallow, so it 
will be healed by tomorrow morn. Come with me to the healing chamber. 
I will tend your wound there.”
 
Thranduil nodded slowly but was unable to speak. He loved the way that 
Elrond was examining his arm and silently cursed when the lord turned to 
leave.
 
Elrond led Thranduil to the healing room and asked him to sit on a type of 
examination table. He prepared a poultice quickly and brought the herbs, a 
small bowl of water, a cleaning cloth and some bandages to a nearby table. 
Dipping the cloth into the water, Elrond approached the king. “Would you 
raise your sleeve?”
 
Thranduil obeyed, watching Elrond carefully. 
 
The lord of Rivendell wiped the blood from Thranduil’s arm, being very 
careful not to put any pressure on the wound. He felt very guilty for 
injuring Thranduil.
 
The king, on the other hand, was becoming more and more aroused every 
moment. He could hardly breathe. Elrond was standing so close that the 
king could almost taste him… and he wanted to. He watched Elrond’s 
very capable hands and wondered if the lord was always so gentle.
 
Elrond cleaned Thranduil’s arm longer than he should have, but couldn’t 
help the way he was feeling. He felt badly about hurting the king, but to be 
so close to an elf as handsome as Thranduil was very arousing. He looked 
at the king’s perfect hands and arms and wondered how it would feel to be 
touched by Thranduil. “I… I… I am going to apply the poultice now,” 
Elrond stammered, hoping that the wickedness of his thoughts were not 
evident.
 
Thranduil nodded, knowing that if he chose to speak that he would say 
something unintelligible and then mount Elrond like a steed.
 
Elrond put a small amount of the dressing on a bandage, spreading it 
gently with his fingers. He then, placed the bandage on the king’s arm and 
began to wrap gently. Trying to maintain his composure, Elrond finally 
spoke. “I am sorry for hurting you.”
 
Thranduil didn’t speak for a few moments. He could feel his heart 
pounding in his chest and felt his member harden. Using every inner 
resource he had as a king he responded simply. “It was an accident. You 
do not need to apologize.”
 
“Yes I do,” Elrond disagreed. “What I did was wrong… and now you are 
suffering because of me.”
 
“I am not suffering,” Thranduil said firmly, shifting his tunic nonchalantly 
and hoping that Elrond couldn’t see his throbbing member.
 
“But still,” Elrond said, “I cheated. And now you are…”
 
Thranduil placed one of his left fingers on Elrond’s mouth. “Say no 
more,” he whispered. 
 
Elrond gasped and released the king’s bandaged arm. 
 
Thranduil stared at Elrond’s perfect mouth and then found himself moving 
toward the lord slowly. He tried to stop himself, but his bodily urges 
seemed to usurp his brain. Thranduil moved his finger only a moment 
before their lips met.
 
Elrond moaned when he felt the softness and he warmth of Thranduil’s 
mouth. And the intensity of the kiss traveled down his spine and to his 
toes.
 
Thranduil no longer had control. He was overcome with joy when he 
heard Elrond moan and wanted nothing more than to hear that sound over 
and over again. He placed his hands on the lord’s waist, never breaking 
the kiss, pulling him closer. Thranduil, sucked tenderly on Elrond’s lower 
lip, moving his hands slowly up the lord’s back.
 
Elrond could not resist. He submitted completely to Thranduil, relishing 
ever moment of pleasure that he was feeling. His body was on fire, his 
skin burned with desire. He longed for Thranduil to caress him, to touch 
his skin.
 
As if by intuition, Thranduil’s fingers found their way to Elrond’s neck. 
He stroked it gently as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to slide his tongue 
into the lord’s mouth, but Elrond hadn’t yet yielded that treasure to him. 
Thranduil knew what to do. He found the lord’s left earlobe and began to 
caress it gently. Moving his fingers upward, the king found the tip of 
Elrond’s ear and stroked it lazily. Elrond moaned again and Thranduil 
allowed his tongue to slide in between the lord’s parted lips. Waves of 
pleasure spread through the king’s body as the two rulers explored one 
another’s mouths hungrily. 
 
Elrond grasped Thranduil’s waist, and nearly pulled him off of the exam 
table, just to bring him closer. 
 
Thranduil pressed his chest against Elrond’s, wishing that their clothing 
wasn’t between them. He wanted to feel Elrond’s naked body against him; 
he wanted to make Elrond scream with pleasure.
 
Elrond stroked Thranduil’s silky, flaxen hair. He silently begged the Valar 
not to let this moment end, but his wish was a foolish one, as it ended only 
a moment later. “Glorfindel!” Elrond said, pulling away from Thranduil 
abruptly.
 
The king stared at Glorfindel in shock and wondered why he hadn’t sensed 
the marchwarden approaching. He looked at Elrond for an explanation, but 
Elrond was red-faced and avoiding his eyes.
 
“Begging your pardon,” Glorfindel said, bowing.
 
“I… I was just tending to Thranduil’s wound. I… I accidentally injured 
him during swordplay.”
 
Glorfindel nodded and met the king’s eyes for a moment before looking at 
Elrond. “I apologize for the… the interruption, but some of the servants 
are looking for you. They have questions about today’s festivities and seek 
your counsel.”
 
“Yes… I… I will go and meet with them at once,” Elrond stammered. “I 
will take my leave now. I… I will speak with you both later.”
 
“Aye,” Glorfindel said, bowing.
 
“Goodbye, Elrond,” Thranduil said. He tried to hide the disappointment in 
his voice but failed miserably. He watched in silence as Elrond left the 
room.
 
“Well, well, well,” Glorfindel said, placing his hands on his hips and 
turning to face the king. “It would seem that Haldir isn’t the only pup who 
is smitten.”
 
Thranduil arched one eyebrow and smiled. “I do not know what you 
mean.”
 
“Ah, you are pretending to be innocent, are you?” Glorfindel asked, 
smirking. “Well, I can assure you that your effort will be wasted on me.”
 
Thranduil remained silent. 
 
“Now tell me, how did you get injured?”
 
“Elrond challenged me to a swordfight. I accepted his challenge. He 
realized that I was a better competitor so he cheated when he disarmed me. 
Unfortunately, I was injured.”
 
“Luckily, you were not offended. It would seem that Elrond’s… bedside 
manner made up for his error. I have suspected for some time now that the 
two of you may have a bond that extends beyond friendship.”
 
Thranduil shrugged and then looked at Glorfindel curiously, quickly 
changing the subject. “How is it that you were able to sneak in on us? We 
should have sensed you, long before you entered.”
 
Glorfindel nodded slowly. “That is true. However, considering the state 
that you and Elrond were in… it is doubtful that you would have 
perceived anything.”
 
Thranduil’s face reddened slightly.
 
“In all honesty, I am not like most elves,” Glorfindel explained. “I am 
older than most who still remain in Middle-earth and… I have passed 
through fire and shadow.”
 
Thranduil stared at Glorfindel in shock. “You… you died?”
 
“Aye,” Glorfindel said. “I was killed by a Balrog long years ago. I 
wandered the Halls of Waiting before the Valar saw fit to re-embody me. 
Since my return, I am different. Often, I can pass through the world 
unnoticed, like the shadow I once was. It is the reason that you did not 
sense me. In an odd way, I am still dead.”
 
Thranduil pondered Glorfindel’s words for a few moments but did not 
speak.
 
“So, Elrond defeated you?” Glorfindel asked.
 
“He cheated,” Thranduil said, suddenly thinking longingly about the lord 
of Rivendell. Looking in Glorfindel’s amused eyes and realizing that he 
must look like a lovesick child, brought the king back to reality. “It is a 
pity… if the lord of this realm must cheat so he won’t be beaten. It would 
seem that my warriors have nothing to worry about.”
 
Glorfindel smiled. “Indeed?” He picked up Elrond’s sword off of the 
floor. “Why not try to defeat me?”
 
Thranduil stared at Glorfindel in dismay.
 
“If you are as good as you say, then you have nothing to lose,” Glorfindel 
stated.
 
“You are right,” Thranduil said with confidence, walking across the room 
and picking up the sword off of the floor. The king turned around and 
faced a very unsure looking Glorfindel. “Do not fear; your defeat will be 
swift.” Thranduil bowed at his competitor and lunged forward abruptly. 
He heard his sword fall to the floor with a loud thud. He didn’t know what 
had happened and looked at Glorfindel in shock.
 
The marchwarden smiled. “That is what Elrond was trying to do,” he said 
grinning. “I only did it quicker.”
 
“How… how did you…” Thranduil stammered in disbelief. He could not 
believe that Glorfindel had disarmed him in only a moment’s time.
 
Glorfindel placed his sword on a long table and turned to face the 
dumbfounded king. 
 
“How… it is not possible that you could defeat me so quickly,” Thranduil 
continued.  
 
“Of course it is,” Glorfindel said.
 
Thranduil shook his head and stared at Glorfindel in dismay. “How?”
 
“I have lived for a very long time. I am even older than Celeborn and 
Galadriel. I had fought in many battles, thousands of years before you 
were born.”
 
Thranduil didn’t speak; instead he regarded Glorfindel with interest.
 
“You often refer to Haldir as a pup,” Glorfindel continued, “and that’s 
what you are to me. You are King Pup.”
 
Thranduil winced. “Until now there has been only one nickname that I 
abhor – Thrandy. Now, there are two.”
 
Glorfindel smiled.
 
“And how is Haldir?” Thranduil asked, deviously. “I do not know if any 
mud hit him… if so, he may need your assistance in the bathing hall.”
 
Glorfindel sighed and shook his head.
 
“Why do you try to resist, Haldir?” Thranduil asked. “Does his youth 
frighten you?”
 
“Aye. Haldir is a child. I am old enough to be his grandfather… I am old 
enough to be your father, Thranduil. Haldir seems like a kindly young elf, 
and I admit that he is very handsome. But I question Haldir’s interest in 
me.”
 
“Why?” 
 
“Because Haldir is a child. He does not know what he wants. His feelings 
for me are not real; it is simply infatuation. I have been alone for 
thousands of years. I have outgrown the need for intimate 
companionship.”
 
“Glorfindel,” Thranduil began, “I have a great deal of respect for you, but 
cannot listen to this blather about Haldir any longer.”
 
Glorfindel’s eyes widened.
 
“You may have deluded yourself into believing that you do not need or 
want companionship, but that is simply ludicrous. I have seen you in the 
background on numerous occasions since I have been here. You are 
lonely, Glorfindel. Do not try to deny it.”
 
“I am not lonely,” Glorfindel said. “My duty to Rivendell keeps me 
company.”
 
“Nonsense,” Thranduil said, dismissing Glorfindel’s statement with a 
wave of his hand. “Your fealty to this realm is admirable, but your duty 
does not fully satisfy you. I can see it in your eyes. You long for more than 
servility alone. You may have fallen into shadow years ago, but you are 
not the walking dead. You are very much alive, Glorfindel. You should 
enjoy your life. Why not spend your days and nights alongside someone 
who seems to have much in common with you? And, although I do not 
know Haldir very well, I do not believe that his feelings are as shallow as 
infatuation. Look into his eyes the next time you see him. His heart is 
genuine; he seems to sincerely care about you.”
 
“But I have never thought of Haldir in that way… not… romantically. I do 
not know if I want to involve myself with someone whose intentions are 
so unknown.”
 
“You are not obligated to become involved with Haldir,” Thranduil said. 
“Why not spend some time with him? You may find him worthy of more 
than a passing glance.”
 
Glorfindel sighed.
 
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~*~*~*~*~*~*
 
Elladan motioned to Elrohir, who walked toward his twin, shaking his 
head. Elladan was standing a few meters from his father’s healing 
chamber, where he had seen King Thranduil enter a bit earlier.
 
“What is it, Elladan?” Elrohir asked, not really wanting to know the 
answer.
 
“I made a huge mistake this time,” Elladan said. “Legolas, Dace and 
Makail are certain to be furious with me. How severely do you think they 
were punished?”
 
“I do not know,” Elrohir said, shrugging. “But judging by the king’s usual 
temperament, methinks that we will not see the Mirkwood princes for a 
long time.”
 
“Oh, Elrohir… do not jest.”
 
“Who’s jesting?”
 
“I have to find a way to apologize to the king. Maybe then, he will not be 
so harsh on his sons,” Elladan said, looking toward the room and 
wondering when the king would exit.
 
“I am certain that your apology will do little to persuade the king. He has 
probably already punished the princes… notice how we haven’t seen them 
since the mud fight.”
 
“I have to do something,” Elladan said pitifully. “Elrohir you have to help 
me.”
 
“Oh, no I don’t,” Elrohir said quickly, backing away from his twin. “I do 
not wish to be involved in anything that you want to do. You will only end 
up making the king angry, and I do not want to be anywhere near when 
King Thranduil’s head explodes because you said something foolish.”
 
“That’s it!” Elladan exclaimed. “Elrohir, you’re brilliant!”
 
“What?” Elrohir asked, giving Elladan a wary look.
 
“We can switch places,” Elladan said. 
 
“Switch places? Are you insane?”
 
“Nay, it is a perfect plan. You said it yourself… I will only anger the king. 
But you… you are far more eloquent than I. King Thranduil will listen to 
you. Pretend to be me and humbly apologize. Tell King Thranduil that the 
mud fight was my idea and that his sons had nothing to do with it; they 
were only defending themselves. The king will not be able to stay angry, 
and the Mirkwood princes will not be punished. This is a perfect plan.”
 
“But can’t the king tell up apart?” Elrohir asked.
 
“Of course not,” Elladan said. “That is the best part of the plan. I think he 
has made a few lucky guesses in the past when we are together, but he will 
never be able to tell us apart individually. You know as well as I that even 
Dace and Makail cannot tell us apart.”
 
“That’s true,” Elrohir remarked. “Just the other day I had a whole 
conversation with Makail. I didn’t realize he thought I was you until he 
called me Elladan.”
 
“You see?” Elladan remarked. “We are mirror images of one another. 
Aside from our family and close friends, few can tell us apart.”
 
“But Legolas could…” Elrohir said.
 
“Legolas is a bit odd,” Elladan said. “You know… with his gift and that. 
He senses things differently than most elves.”
 
“I am sure you are right. And anyway, because your love can 
communicate with animals, I am certain that it took him no time at all to 
discover that you are much like a mare – slightly simple, docile and easy 
to ride,” Elrohir said, laughing.
 
Elladan frowned. “I resent that remark. I will have you know that my 
mare, Ellie, is twice as smart as your Eliad.”
 
Elrohir continued to laugh.
 
Elladan sighed loudly. “I would punch you right in the face if I didn’t need 
you at this moment. Your face must be intact when you speak to the king.”
 
“I’m not speaking to the king,” Elrohir said, regaining his composure. 
 
“What? Why not?”
 
“You are insane, Elladan. This will never work.”
 
“Yes, it will. It has to.”
 
“I’m not doing it.”
 
“Elrohir, please,” Elladan begged.
 
“No.”
 
“Elrohir…” Elladan said.
 
“Forget it, Elladan. I’m not doing it!”
 
“Yes you will.”
 
“No I won’t,” Elrohir said, folding his arms acroos his chest indignantly.
 
“Yes you will,” Elladan said, “or I am going to tell father about the time 
you used his favorite sword and nearly destroyed it.”
 
“You wouldn’t,” Elrohir said.
 
“Oh yes I would.”
 
“But how could you?”
 
“Desperate times call for desperate measures, I’m afraid,” Elladan said.
 
“But there are many things that I could tell father about you. I an not the 
only one who has secrets.”
 
“True,” Elladan said, nodding. “But father sure was furious when he saw 
the condition of his sword. Methinks that anything you could say about me 
would pale in comparison to that.”
 
Elrohir sighed loudly and glared at Elladan, speaking between clenched 
teeth. “Alright, I will be you, and I will apologize to the king. But you owe 
me.”
 
“Whenever you need a favor, I will do it without question,” Elladan said.
 
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Elrohir said.
 
“Here he comes,” Elladan said. “I’m going to go into the parlor and wait. I 
can hear what the king is saying from there, but should be undetected. 
Good luck, Elrohir. Remember, make me look good in front of the king.” 
Elladan raced to the parlor.
 
Elrohir inhaled and exhaled deeply, to calm his nerves, and waited for the 
king. 
 
Thranduil exited from the healing chamber and nearly floated above the 
floor. Although his arm was hurting and he had been defeated twice in one 
day, his mind was on the Lord of Rivendell and the kiss they had shared. 
He wondered what he would say to Elrond the next time they saw one 
another. Thranduil walked toward the entrance hall and saw one of the 
dark-haired twins standing before him.
 
“Sire,” Elrohir said bowing deeply. “I am certain that you are very busy, 
but may I take a moment of your time?”
 
“Very well,” Thranduil said after pausing for a moment. “What do you 
want?”
 
“To apologize,” Elrohir said, hoping that his act was convincing. 
 
“To apologize for what?” The king asked, confused.
 
“I started the mud fight in the grove today.”
 
“You did?” Thranduil asked, surprised that Elrohir would do such a thing.
 
“All blame should fall to me, please do not punish your sons; they were 
only defending themselves from my folly.”
 
“I appreciate your honesty,” Thranduil said, “but my sons are responsible 
for their own actions. It is not as though they were called into sudden 
battle… they were throwing mud.”
 
“I know, Sire,” Elrohir said, really piling on the charm. “But fierce 
warriors like your sons, must defend their honor when they are challenged. 
They really had no other choice, because I left none for them. They had to 
fight.”
 
“I see,” Thranduil said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
 
“I would never want my beloved, my Legolas, to be punished for my 
wrongdoing.”
 
Thranduil stared at Elrohir in shock and then everything became very 
clear. “Is that a fact?” he asked. “Well, **Elladan** I have decided that 
you are too foolish for my youngest son. I have decided to give his hand to 
Elrohir.”
 
Elladan, who was sitting in the parlor, stood up abruptly, knocking over a 
small table.
 
Thranduil heard the loud crash but continued to speak. “Oh… but Elrohir 
is to be wed. No matter… I will speak to Duke Maris. I am certain he will 
agree to dissolve Ellaria’s arrangement with him. Then, my son can marry 
a male with real zest.”
 
“But… but… Sire,” Elrohir said.
 
“Nay, nay, do not try to change my mind, Elladan. Elrohir has always 
been honorable; he has **never** lied to me.”
 
“He hasn’t,” Elrohir said sheepishly.
 
“Never,” Thranduil said, enjoying tormenting Elrohir a great deal.
 
A very troubled Elladan stumbled into the entrance hall and Thranduil 
grinned from ear to ear. 
 
“Ah, **Elrohir** I was just talking about you.”
 
“You… you were?” 
 
“Oh, yes,” Thranduil remarked. “I have decided that Elladan is a complete 
fool, unworthy of my Legolas. I shall give him to you instead. Better yet… 
Legolas has shown me that he is too young for marriage. Thus, I will give 
you to Makail. He is recently single and is in need of companionship.”
 
“But… but, Milord,” Elladan blurted out before thinking. “Elladan loves 
Legolas; he would die without him… as… as you have seen.”
 
“What I see are two completely idiotic elves who have gone to great 
lengths to try and trick me!”
 
The twins exchanged terrified looks. “What… what do you mean, Sire?” 
Elrohir asked
 
“I mean that I can tell you apart,” Thranduil spat. “I wondered why Elrohir 
was confessing to me… when I knew the instigator of this and everything 
foolish is the man-elf, Elladan.”
 
“Sire… Sire, I can explain,” Elladan said.
 
“You can, and you will – to your father **and** your grandfather. Let’s 
go find them, shall we?”
 
Elrohir gave Elladan a furious look, as the two elves were ushered out of 
the door by a very cross king.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Hours later, the opening ceremony began. The exterior of the manor had 
been beautifully decorated with long strips of blue fabric that blew gently 
in the wind, seemingly beckoning visitors from all over the realm. 
Similarly, the guesthouses bore strips of fabric that represented the color 
of their realm. Lothlórien had streamers of gold and Mirwood’s 
decorations were green. 
 
Hundreds of chairs were scattered across the lawns behind the manors so 
that onlookers could see the participants from each realm arrive. The air 
was charged with excitement and the audience cheered loudly when loud 
music began to play. All eyes were on an enormous platform that sat in 
front of the crowd. It had three elevated thrones on it, one in the middle, 
one on the left and one on the right. In between the thrones there were 
smaller chairs where honored guests or other members of the royal 
families could sit. In the front, middle section of the platform, a large 
podium stood majestically, awaiting its speaker.
 
The music became louder and more upbeat suddenly, and the audience 
began to cheer again when the lords from each realm appeared. They each 
exited from the back of their respective houses, followed by all of the 
warriors who would be participating in the competition. The leader from 
each realm wore the colors that represented their realm. The warriors, 
however, were allowed to wear whatever tunic they had but were required 
to wear armbands that symbolized the color of their realm. 
 
Thranduil looked at Elrond, who was wearing a beautiful cobalt blue tunic 
and sable leggings. He longed to speak with the Lord of Rivendell about 
what had happened earlier between them, but knew that this was not the 
time or place. He would wait until later, when they were alone. The king 
scanned the crown and regarded Celeborn who was wearing a beautiful 
golden tunic and russet colored leggings. Thranduil met Celeborn’s eyes 
suddenly, and the two bowed to one another. Thranduil was glad that he 
and Celeborn had the opportunity to speak before the opening ceremony. 
And he was especially glad that his newfound relationship with the Lórien 
Lord had not been damaged by his sons’ foolishness.
 
Elrond looked in Thranduil’s direction and gasped. As always the King of 
Mirkwood looked beautiful. He had on cinnamon colored leggings, a 
stunning forest green tunic and a matching green cape that stretched to the 
ground. He wore an ornate crown on top of his head, woven delicately in 
the way of the elves, but trimmed with leaves made from the finest steel. 
The king’s hair was not braided, he wore it loose and neatly tucked behind 
his ears and the crown seemed to keep the style in place. Elrond watched 
Thranduil for a few moments and then remembered the kiss. Pushing the 
memory aside, Elrond and the Rivendell warriors walked into the huge 
crowd, bidding good tidings to their supporters as well as elves from other 
realms.
 
Thranduil swept through the crowd, speaking to everyone who approached 
him. He knew that many of the guests were wondering where his sons 
were, but no one asked, probably for fear of angering him. He offered no 
explanation, and continued to make his way through the crowd. Suddenly, 
the king stopped moving when he saw a comely, young she-elf, eagerly 
searching the crowd; it was Tialise. The king watched her and felt a swell 
of sympathy when he saw her sigh with disappointment and start at the 
ground sadly. Although he was angry at Dace, he would let no harm come 
to his son’s beloved. The king approached the young elf, but she didn’t 
notice.
 
“Lady Tialise,” Thranduil said gently.
 
The she-elf looked up slowly and gasped when she saw the King of 
Mirkwood standing before her. She wiped a tear from her face quickly and 
tried to compose herself. “King Thranduil?” she said, unable to hide the 
sadness in her voice. “Aye, Sire it is I.”
 
Thranduil smiled. “I have been searching all over for you. I have a 
message from my son, Dace.”
 
Tialise’s eyes widened, but she tried not to seem too anxious in front of 
the king.
 
Thranduil smiled inwardly. Tialise was adorable. Her youth was evident in 
all that she did. He could see why Dace was so taken with her. “Dace 
wanted me to apologize for him… he will be unable to come to the 
opening ceremony this day.”
 
Tialise’s face fell; she nodded slowly.
 
“He had to attend to some business of the royal house, and could not get 
away,” the king continued.
 
Tialise nodded again, but looked utterly miserable and on the verge of 
tears. “Thank you for telling me, Sire,” she said softly.
 
“I was wondering… Lady Tialise,” Thranduil said, determined to lift the 
young elf’s spirits, “if you would do me the honor and taking up the seat at 
my left hand this day?”
 
Tialise’s eyes widened again and she regarded the king with an expression 
of shock. “Me? But those seats are reserved for family or honored guests.”
 
“Aye,” Thranduil said. “I would like you to be my personal, honored guest 
this day.”
 
Tialise was speechless, to be invited to sit with the king of Mirkwood was 
a rare treat indeed. Her sadness disappeared at once and she smiled 
excitedly. “Yes, Sire. I would very much like to sit with you.”
 
“Very well,” Thranduil said. “Your seat awaits.” The king held out his 
arm and Tialise grasped it a bit too roughly, causing the king to lose his 
balance for a moment.
 
“Sorry,” Tialise whispered.
 
Thranduil smiled and bowed politely at the young female, then led her to 
the platform. 
 
The crowd whispered frantically, trying to understand why the king of 
Mirkwood had taken an interest in this young, she-elf.
 
The king took his seat on the throne to the right of the platform. Tialise sat 
down in the chair just to the left of the king, grinning happily. One of the 
kings most trusted servants took up the seat at Thranduil’s right. 
 
Celeborn emerged from the crowd and climbed the steps of the platform. 
He sat on the throne on the left of the stage and was joined by Haldir, 
Rúmil and Orophin.
 
Elrond was the last to leave the crowd. He escorted Arwen to her seat and 
went to the podium, instead of taking his seat that was in the center of the 
platform. 
 
Elladan, Elrohir sat just to the left of Tialise, taking up two seats that were 
to the right of their father’s throne. Elrohir glared at his brother, still quite 
cross about the harsh scolding they received from their father and 
grandfather prior to the festivities. Elladan tried to apologize to his brother 
but Elrohir suddenly insisted on switching places with Arwen.
 
Glorfindel sat in a chair that was to the left of Elrond’s throne… right 
beside Haldir.
 
Haldir greeted Glorfindel who smiled and nodded politely.
 
The Elder could not help but notice the sudden redness of Haldir’s cheeks 
and how the elf seemed to shrink in his presence. He felt someone’s eyes 
upon him and scanned the audience and the platform carefully. His gaze 
landed upon a grinning, smug-looking Thranduil. He sighed and shook his 
head slowly as Elrond began to speak.
 
“Let the opening ceremony commence…”
 
The crowd cheered wildly.
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
*~*~*~*~*~*~
 
Legolas could hear all of the music and cheering outside and wished that 
he could have gone to the opening ceremony. He was bored. Even though 
this was his bedchamber… he had spent little time in this room. As far as 
he was concerned, the bedchamber in the Mirkwood guesthouse was 
completely foreign to him. He had been spending every night with Elladan 
and wondered if he would ever be able to sleep alone. He sighed and 
paced the room, silently cursing for getting caught by his father. Suddenly, 
he heard a strange noise coming from a large armoire across the room. He 
regarded the clothespress cautiously, walking toward it. As Legolas 
approached the wardrobe, he realized that someone was hiding inside. He 
grabbed one of his weapons, a knife, from his dresser and slowly made his 
way to the armoire. Placing his hand on the doorknob he opened it 
quickly, placing his knife at the throat of the intruder. It was Elrohir. 
“Elrohir,” Legolas said with relief, “how did you get into my bedchamber? 
I did not hear you enter.”
 
Elrohir didn’t speak; he just stared at Legolas in a sinister way. “I have a 
gift for you,” he said icily. “Come and see.”
 
“But… Elrohir… I cannot. I am already in enough trouble with my father 
and if he knew you were here…”
 
“Come and see!” Elrohir hissed.
 
Legolas kept his knife close at hand but followed Elrohir. He felt very 
uneasy for some reason, but was compelled to follow the youngest 
Rivendell twin. Legolas couldn’t help but notice the strange way in which 
Elrohir was moving and how a putrid stench seemed to emanate from him. 
Something was not right.
 
“In here,” Elrohir said.
 
Legolas entered a small grey-colored chamber with nothing in it except a 
large box and an enormous armoire, large enough to house four of five 
elves. He could hear noises coming from inside the armoire and noticed 
that he was feeling especially anxious.
 
Elrohir smiled evilly and drool came out of his mouth. His eyes changed 
color, from silvery grey to black. And the blackness spread, overcoming 
the white of his eyes. He grinned and Legolas could see fangs instead of 
teeth and long razor sharp claws grew out of his fingernails.
 
Legolas reached for his knife, but it was gone. 
 
Elrohir hissed and walked over to the armoire. He opened the door and 
entered it. 
 
Legolas could hear a scream emerge from inside the wardrobe and a loud 
thud. Then Elrohir came back out, holding a large box in his hands. He 
thrust the box in Legolas’ arms.
 
“Open it.”
 
Legolas looked at the box skeptically.
 
“Open it!” Elrohir demanded.
 
Legolas pulled the grey bow off of the box and opened it. Peering inside 
he saw the head of an elf.
 
“For you,” Elrohir said, grasping the head by the hair and giving it to 
Legolas. It was Elladan’s head. His eyes were full of terror and his mouth 
was open and contorted in pain. 
 
Legolas dropped the head and looked at Elrohir. “This is a dream,” the 
prince said. “This isn’t real.”
 
“Isn’t real?” Elrohir said, approaching him.
 
“No,” Legolas said. “You are not real… none of this. I am dreaming.”
 
“No, this isn’t a dream,” Elrohir said. “It is real.” He grabbed Legolas by 
the hair and shoved him to the floor, placing his claws to the left of the 
prince’s neck.
 
Legolas could hear himself scream; he felt an indescribable pain. His 
vision darkened and the he could taste his own blood in his mouth.
 
--- 
 
 
Chapter 12: Change of Heart 
 
 
The opening ceremony extended into the early hours of the morning. Elves danced, sang, 
drank and made merry. Everyone was having a good time and was enjoying being able to 
fellowship with elves from other realms. 
 
Haldir, on the other hand, was alone, as usual, and preferred to spend his time observing 
the others. He desired to move away from the noise of the party and to go somewhere 
where he could watch the festivities from a distance. He looked around, trying to find a 
place that was unoccupied, but quickly discovered that every nook and cranny of the 
grounds were inhabited. He sighed and looked upward, suddenly realizing that he was 
only a meter from the rear entrance of the Mirkwood guesthouse. He approached the 
doorway slowly, peered inside and smiled; it appeared to be empty.  
 
Haldir entered the hall and looked around curiously, noting that the Mirkwood guest 
quarters differed from Lothlórien’s. While both estates were similar in size, the décor was 
what differed the most. Drapes in hues of emerald and chestnut adorned every window. 
Even the long, curved staircase before him was outfitted in lifelike leaves that 
ornamented the railing. Haldir stood at the base of the stairway and felt compelled to 
explore a little further. Without further hesitation, he ascended the stairs; his gaze was 
drawn to a room that had abundant light flooding out of it. Curiosity overtook the Lórien 
warrior, and he entered the chamber cautiously.  
 
The room was long, rectangular in shape and served as a library for guests. Behind him, 
aside from two doorways at either end of the room, the wall was covered with bookcases 
filled with countless tomes. An enormous ornamental rug stretched across the wooden 
floor and multiple, plush settees, chairs and tables were arranged neatly around the room. 
Haldir faced the front of the room and noticed two terrace entrances, just opposite of the 
doors that led back into the manor. Moonlight was pouring in through one of the doors 
and Haldir decided to go out and view the grounds from above.  
 
The warrior realized very quickly that this balcony was on the front of the Mirkwood 
guesthouse, just above the entranceway. He looked down and could see that some 
members of the party were now in the front of the manors, including Glorfindel. Haldir 
could feel his heart leap in his chest; he stared longingly at the ancient elf.  
 
Glorfindel was chatting animatedly with King Thranduil, Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn 
who laughed heartily at what he was saying.  
 
Haldir frowned and hoped that he wasn’t part of Glorfindel’s humorous tale. He 
contemplated just how foolish he had probably looked earlier when he had spoken to 
Glorfindel and shuddered. He wished he could be more refined… more like… like 
Legolas.  
 
Suddenly, Haldir heard a muffled scream and turned abruptly, trying to discover where 
the sound was coming from. He rushed out of the library and into the hallway, looking 
around inquisitively. He heard the sound again; it was louder this time and emanated 
from the passage to his left. Haldir took an ornamental sword that was positioned above a 
nearby doorway and unsheathed it. Clutching it, he went in search for the source of the 
frightened cries. 
 
Haldir heard another shriek and felt his heartbeat quicken. He glanced into each chamber 
as he passed, making sure that they were empty. He went from room to room and was 
just about to stop his journey when he heard a scream that sent waves of fear down his 
spine. Someone was in trouble; he had to help.  
 
Haldir entered the last room at the end of the corridor and was shocked to see Legolas. 
The prince seemed to be asleep, but was clutching his throat and writhing in agony. 
 
“Legolas? Legolas!” Haldir exclaimed, shaking the prince forcefully. 
 
The youngest prince awakened at once. He was trembling violently and clutching his 
throat, desperately gasping for air.  
 
“Legolas, are you alright?” Haldir asked, visibly taken aback by Legolas’ odd behavior, 
but trying to remain calm.  
 
Legolas gasped for air again and looked around the room nervously, barely listening to 
Haldir. 
 
“You gave me quite a fright,” Haldir said, looking at the prince, concerned. “I apologize 
for awakening you, but I heard you scream; I thought something horrible had happened.” 
 
Legolas didn’t speak. He kept his hand planted firmly around his neck and stared straight 
ahead. 
 
Haldir was very aware of how awkward this situation was for the prince, and was actually 
feeling ill at ease himself. Haldir assumed that Legolas’ silence was a way of telling him 
to leave, which he decided to do at once. After all, he was only a marchwarden and didn’t 
want to upset King Thranduil’s son. “Begging you pardon. I will take my leave now.” 
 
Legolas looked at Haldir, as though seeing him for the first time. “Haldir… please… do 
not leave.” 
 
“As you wish, Sire.” 
 
“What… what are you doing in here?” Legolas asked, still clutching his throat.  
 
“I was at the opening ceremony and decided to explore the Mirkwood guesthouse. I was 
in the library when I heard you scream. When I found you, you were asleep, but behaving 
as though you were in pain so I awakened you. 
 
Legolas nodded slowly, avoiding Haldir’s eyes. 
 
There was a long silence. 
 
“Perhaps I should take my leave, now.” Haldir said, turning to leave. 
 
“Nay,” Legolas said. “I mean… you may stay if you like.” 
 
Haldir didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he should go or stay and felt a bit 
uncomfortable standing in the prince’s bedchamber in the middle of the night.  
 
Legolas could sense Haldir’s apprehension and smiled warmly. “Did you call me ‘Sire” 
earlier?” 
 
Haldir nodded. 
 
“If you recall, I told your brothers, Orophin and Rúmil, that there is no need for such 
formality where I am concerned. You are a friend of Elladan’s, which makes you a friend 
of mine. You may call me Legolas.” 
 
Haldir felt some of his unease fade and smiled at the prince. “You gave me quite a scare. 
I thought that someone was being slain.” 
 
“I was,” Legolas said. 
 
Haldir’s eyes widened. 
 
“In my dream,” the prince added quickly upon seeing the expression on Haldir’s face. 
“When my mother died… after she died, I had vivid nightmares. That is what occurred 
here tonight.” 
 
“And you were being killed in your dream?” 
 
“Aye. An orc-like creature was trying to behead me with his claws.” 
 
Haldir furrowed his brow. 
 
“The dream was so real. I… I could feel his claws tearing my flesh. I thought I was 
dying. I tried to fight back but couldn’t… for the first time… I was helpless.” Legolas 
finally released his grip from around his neck and sighed. 
 
Haldir gasped and stared at the prince in shock. “Legolas… your neck!” 
 
Legolas stood up abruptly and walked across his bedchamber. He peered into a looking 
glass that was hanging above his dresser and his eyes widened. There, on the left side of 
his neck were four claw marks that extended from his earlobe to his throat. 
 
“Legolas, you were not dreaming. You were attacked. We must go and inform the King 
at once.” 
 
“Nay, Haldir!” Legolas said, grabbing Haldir’s arm. “I will be fine. It is not necessary to 
inform anyone about this.” 
 
“Legolas, this is serious,” Haldir said. “Your life could be in danger.” 
 
“It isn’t,” Legolas said quickly. 
 
“The marks on your neck would suggest otherwise.” 
 
“Haldir, you saw the mud fight. My father is already very cross with me. He has already 
threatened to send me back to Mirkwood if I embarrass him further. If he hears about this 
he will not let me stay… I am sure of it,” Legolas explained. 
 
Haldir frowned. “I am not sure about this, Legolas. I am a marchwarden, it is my duty to 
protect… if anything happened to you…” 
 
“I am not Ulan,” Legolas quipped. “I am no docile child, in need of a guard. I am a 
prince, that is true, but I am also a warrior. I can take care of myself.” 
 
Haldir felt as though he had been put in his place and nodded politely. “I am sorry… you 
are correct; you are no child. I… I was only trying to help.” 
 
Legolas sighed and silently cursed at himself for speaking so harshly to Haldir. He knew 
that the marchwarden meant well. “Do not fret,” Legolas said. “Everything will be fine.” 
He smiled at Haldir and wondered if his own words were really true. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Hours later, daybreak arrived. The sun stretched its long arms toward the sky, awakening 
the world to a new day.  
 
This would be a day of rest for most of the elves, as the opening ceremony hadn’t ended 
until the moon had almost disappeared behind the mountains in the distance, and the first 
rays of light turned the sky from cobalt to crimson. For two elves, however, rest would be 
the last thing they would receive this day.  
 
Elladan was already in the stable, preparing for what would probably be a horrendous 
day. After his elaborate trick on the king had failed, both his father and grandfather had 
been quite angry. Even though he and Elrohir had been allowed to attend the opening 
ceremony, they hadn’t escaped a harsh punishment. 
 
Elrohir stormed into the stable, interrupting Elladan’s thoughts, throwing his bucket and 
brush onto the ground. 
 
“Hello, Elrohir,” Elladan said, trying to sound cheerful. 
 
“Oh, shut your mouth, Elladan!” Elrohir snapped. “Have you looked out of the stable this 
day? Have you seen how many horses we are supposed to bathe? There are hundreds of 
them… they extend from here, down the path and up the hill! We have to wash every 
horse in all three realms!” 
 
“Well…” Elladan said, “at least we will be primed for the first competition. Just think of 
how much exercise we will get today.” 
 
“We? We?” Elrohir hollered. 
 
“Elrohir, calm down,” Elladan said. “Between the two of us, we can have all of the horses 
washed in no time.” 
 
“You are such a liar, Elladan,” Elrohir spat. “The only reason I am being punished is 
because of you. You threatened me so I would help you, and now I am being punished 
along side you. I won’t have it, Elladan.” 
 
“What do you mean? Father and Grandfather punished us both. We have to bathe the 
horses.” 
 
“Nay, **you** have to bathe the horses. Remember… you are indebted to me… and you 
said that whenever I need a favor that you would do it without question.” 
 
“But, Elrohir,” Elladan protested, “I cannot wash all of these horses by myself.” 
 
“You can and you will,” Elrohir said and stalked out of the stable. 
 
Elladan waited for a long while, believing that Elrohir would eventually return. But as the 
sun rose higher in the sky with the passing of each moment, Elladan realized that he was 
on his own. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Thranduil sat in front of the vanity in his bedchamber and stared at his reflection in the 
mirror. He hadn’t slept at all after the opening ceremony had ended, even though he, 
Celeborn, Elrond and Glorfindel had retired for the evening well before some of the 
younger elves. 
 
Thranduil grasped a comb that was on the vanity countertop and pulled it through his 
hair. He stopped suddenly and observed his hands; they were shaking. The king placed 
the comb back on the dresser and smiled. It had been a long time since he was nervous, 
but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t wait to see Elrond. In fact, he wanted to see the Lord 
of Rivendell now.  
 
Thranduil changed his clothes quickly, putting on a handsome, acorn colored tunic that 
was embroidered with a delicate russet trim. He tried to ignore his bandaged arm and put 
on matching russet leggings and boots and braided his hair a bit differently this day, only 
creating a single plait in his hair, instead of the traditional three-braided Mirkwood style. 
Once the king was completely dressed, he observed himself in the looking glass. He 
thought he looked quite handsome, but wished he could get the ridiculous expression off 
of his face. He couldn’t help it, though. He was completely smitten, and knew that 
nothing could ruin this day.  
 
The king adjusted his tunic self-consciously and left his bedchamber; he was off to see 
Elrond. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Thranduil peeked into Elrond’s bedchamber. 
 
Elrond, who had sensed the king’s presence, smiled faintly. “Good morn, Thranduil.” 
 
“Good morn, Elrond,” Thranduil responded, unable to hide the eagerness in his voice. 
“Did you sleep well?” 
 
“Aye,” Elrond lied. “And you?” 
 
“Very well, thank you.” 
 
Elrond turned away from the king and began to shuffle through some papers that were on 
a dresser in the room.  
 
Thranduil shifted uncomfortably, sensing an odd coldness from Elrond. He wasn’t sure 
what to do next and waited patiently, hoping that Elrond would say something. But, the 
silence lingered for an awkward amount of time and Thranduil decided to speak. 
“Perhaps… maybe I should leave.” 
 
Elrond looked at Thranduil and nodded. “Aye, that may be best.” 
 
The king felt as though he had been slapped across the face. *Why was Elrond behaving 
this way?* Thranduil turned to leave but stopped just short of the doorway. He turned to 
face the lord. “You are different this morning, Elrond. Have I done something to offend 
you?” 
 
Elrond sighed and met the king’s eyes. “Nay, I am not offended… I just know why you 
have come this morn.” 
 
“And why is that?” 
 
“Thranduil, this is not going to work.” 
 
“What is not going to work?” 
 
“This,” Elrond said, motioning from himself to Thranduil. “Us.” 
 
Thranduil stared at Elrond in shock. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “How can 
you say that? You haven’t even given **us** a chance.” 
 
“You are right… and I am not going to.” 
 
Thranduil shook his head and stared at the lord in incredulity. “And what has brought you 
to this conclusion?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips. 
 
“The past… and the present,” Elrond replied. “I have been thinking about this since… 
since yesterday, Thranduil, and I can see things quite clearly now.” 
 
“What do you mean?” 
 
“Have you forgotten what happened the last time we had a misunderstanding?” Elrond 
asked. “Do you remember what happened the last time our feelings for one another were 
allowed to run amuck?” 
 
“That isn’t fair, Elrond,” Thranduil said. “That was along time ago. And you are 
forgetting that neither of us knew how the other person felt. Everything was a 
misunderstanding.” 
 
“Exactly,” Elrond said. “And what is preventing another misunderstanding, now?” 
 
“I am standing before you,” Thranduil replied. “I am no longer a princeling; I am a king. 
I have grown up since then… so have you. I will not repeat the mistakes of my youth.” 
 
Elrond shook his head. “This is bigger than us, now. You are right; you are no longer a 
youth, and neither am I. We have responsibilities now, especially to our children. Our 
sons are to be wed, Thranduil. What would happen if a relationship between the two of us 
failed? Would you ban me from Mirkwood again? Or even worse, would you ban 
Elladan?” 
 
“That isn’t fair, Elrond,” Thranduil said, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. “That 
was a long time ago. I have changed, and so have you.” 
 
“Have we really changed, Thranduil? We had our chance, and we failed. It would not be 
fair for us to ruin what our sons have.” 
 
“What’s to ruin?” Thranduil asked. “They adore one another. Why must you look for the 
negative in this? A relationship between the two of us has nothing to do with Elladan and 
Legolas.” 
 
“Yes, it does. Have you considered the possibility that Elladan and Legolas may not be 
together forever? What would become of us if their courtship failed? Or, what if you and 
I were together and I… I shared my bed with someone else while you were away? What 
would happen when you found out?” 
 
“That would never happen,” Thranduil said, shrugging. “I excel in the art of pleasure. If 
you and I were in a relationship, you would never desire anyone else… I would see to 
that.” 
 
Elrond felt his body ache as Thranduil was talking. He wanted to feel the king’s warm 
mouth on his again. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, though. He knew that he 
was doing the right thing—that stopping this relationship before it started was best, for 
everyone.  
 
Thranduil waited for Elrond to respond and when he didn’t, the king approached him 
slowly. “Why are you doing this?” 
 
“Because it is the right thing to do.” 
 
“Says who?” 
 
“Says me.” 
 
“So my feelings… my thoughts do not matter?” 
 
“Nay. 
 
Thranduil looked at the floor and shook his head in dismay. He looked back up at the 
lord, meeting his eyes. “Then I guess there is nothing left for us to discuss.” 
 
“Nay.” 
 
Thranduil felt as though he had been in a fight and lost. He bowed politely before exiting 
the bedchamber, trying to maintain his composure as he left. Once he was in the hallway, 
all he could think about was escape. Thranduil decided that he wouldn’t venture to the 
grove with his companions this day. He needed to be alone.  
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Legolas entered the stable just before midday and found an exhausted looking Elladan 
scrubbing a mare’s hooves.  
 
Elladan paused long enough to wipe his brow and smile faintly at the prince.  
 
“You look exhausted,” Legolas commented, approaching Elladan. 
 
“I am,” the Rivendell elf said, rising to his feet. 
 
“Where is Elrohir?” Legolas asked, looking around the stable. 
 
“He left.” 
 
“Left?” 
 
“Aye, he is quite cross with me… I assume that you heard about what happened?” 
 
“That you foolishly attempted to deceive my father?” 
 
“Aye,” Elladan said glumly. “It would seem that your father is more observant than 
most.” 
 
“Aye, my father notices everything,” Legolas said. “You should have known that trying 
to mislead him would get you into trouble.” 
 
“I was only trying to apologize to him,” Elladan explained. “I was hoping that an 
eloquent verbal repentance would help you… and your brothers. I was going to tell your 
father that everything was my fault and ask him not to punish his sons for my 
wrongdoing.” 
 
“Why didn’t you say that to him, then? Why ask Elrohir to appeal for you?” 
 
“Do you not know me at all?” Elladan asked, staring at the prince as though he were 
insane. “Your father could chill the very sun if he chose to. There is no way I was going 
to beg for his forgiveness. If I had, I am certain that I would not be here right now, for my 
punishment would have been far worse.” 
 
Legolas regarded the seemingly endless line of horses that extended out of the stable and 
over a hill in the distance. “What could be worse than this?” 
 
“Death.” 
 
“Death?” Legolas asked in incredulity. “Oh honestly, Elladan…” 
 
“It is true,” Elladan said, interrupting Legolas. “Remember, your father could chill the 
sun above. What, then, would become of me? Although my physique, my wit and my 
unbelievably handsome face cause many hearts to smolder with desire, the heat I generate 
is less intense than the sun… at least by a little bit.” 
 
Legolas chuckled and shook his head. 
 
“Your father, on the other hand, could freeze an army with one of those icy stares of his. 
Hmm… perhaps I should ask him to join me in battle, next time. It would be nice to 
simply put the king in the center of a battlefield and let him solidify anyone who came 
near. Just think… the orcs are a threat to everyone. Your father could preserve them with 
his death stare and then we could trade them for various goods or favors to humans and 
dwarves; they love a good trophy. There will be an orc in every home, and it will all be 
made possible by your father.” 
 
Legolas laughed, moving only inches from Elladan. “Although your idea is foolish, one 
aspect of your tale was correct.” 
 
“Foolish?” Elladan murmured, pretending to be offended. “Go ahead, call my idea 
foolish. I shall see to it that you do not get your own orc. Perhaps I will ask your father to 
freeze a nice little rabbit for you… that will be the only trophy you will receive. Foolish 
indeed…” 
 
Legolas smiled, stepping directly in front of Elladan, and placed his hand on the dark 
haired warrior’s face. “I missed you last night. My bedchamber seems cold without you 
to **warm** it up.” 
 
Elladan felt his face redden and he admonished himself inwardly. He didn’t know why 
Legolas had this effect on him sometimes.  
 
“As I said earlier, you were correct about one aspect of your tale… you do have the 
ability to make elves burn with desire for you. I know because I am one of them.” 
 
Elladan gasped audibly when the prince brushed his lips slowly across his mouth. 
 
“If you are like the sun… it has been too long since you have warmed me, Elladan,” 
Legolas whispered against his lover’s lips. “Or, if my father’s gaze has chilled you, 
perhaps tonight I can remind you what it means to be hot.” 
 
Elladan smiled, kissing Legolas gently. He stroked the prince’s hair, which he was 
surprised to find was not in the traditional Mirkwood three braided style, but was worn 
loose. He also noticed, suddenly, that Legolas was wearing a very fancy undertunic that 
fit snuggly around his neck. “Your hair… and your attire… Legolas, why are you dressed 
so formally this day? I assume that your father informed you that the first competition 
isn’t for two days. So, why are your clothed as though you are going to a social 
gathering?” 
 
“I do not know what you mean,” Legolas said, moving away from Elladan and walking 
over to a large, white mare and patting her head affectionately. 
 
Elladan stared at the prince for a few moments before speaking. He knew something was 
wrong. “What is it? What has happened?” 
 
“Nothing,” Legolas responded without looking at Elladan. 
 
Elladan didn’t speak. He just stared at Legolas, unsure of what to say next. 
 
The prince sighed and slowly turned to face Elladan. “I had hoped you would not 
notice…” 
 
“Notice what?” 
 
“That… that I am dressed a bit differently this day.” 
 
“I didn’t notice at first,” Elladan admitted, “but I would have eventually.” 
 
“Well, I suppose I should show you, then.” 
 
“Show me what?” 
 
“This,” Legolas said, unfastening the clasps that adorned the lapel of his undertunic and 
pulling the collar aside. 
 
Elladan’s mouth fell open when he saw claw marks on the prince’s neck. “What… what 
happened to you?” he said, rushing over to Legolas and inspecting the wounds curiously. 
 
“I… I am not sure.” 
 
“What do you mean, ‘you are not sure?’” Elladan asked in disbelief. “You were 
attacked.” 
 
“Aye,” Legolas said. “I was attacked… by Elrohir in a dream.” 
 
Elladan didn’t speak for a few moments; he regarded the prince carefully. “So… you 
believe that Elrohir is responsible.” 
 
“Nay,” Legolas said without hesitation. “I believe that something strange is happening to 
me… that my dreams are manifesting in reality.” 
 
Elladan sighed with relief. “I am glad that you do not believe Elrohir harmed you. I 
promise you that he was with me last night… even though he refused to speak to me.” 
 
Legolas refastened his undertunic and shrugged. “I am not overly concerned about it.” 
 
“You should be,” Elladan said. “Legolas, this is serious. You need to tell someone about 
this.” 
 
“Nay,” Legolas said emphatically. “I cannot tell anyone about this… and neither can 
you.” 
 
“But you are in danger,” Elladan protested. “If the marks on your neck are really a 
manifestation of your dreams, what will happen if your nightmares become worse? 
Legolas, you could die.” 
 
“Elladan, you cannot speak of this to anyone. Because of the mud fight, my father is very 
cross with me. If I am the source of more problems, I am certain that he will send me 
back to Mirkwood. No one has ever died from having a dream… so I see no need to 
alarm anyone.” 
 
“But, Legolas… what if you were really attacked? You assume that the wounds are a 
result of you dream, but what if someone means you harm?” 
 
“No one wants to hurt me.” 
 
“How can you be so certain?” Elladan asked, concerned. “And if your dreams have really 
become so violent… don’t you want to find out why? My father may be able to help.” 
 
“Nay,” Legolas said firmly. “I have made a decision about this; I do not want any help.” 
 
Elladan shook his head in protest and began to speak but was interrupted when Haldir, 
Rúmil, Orophin, Makail and Dace entered the stable.  
 
“Hello,” Rúmil said, smiling.  
 
“Hello,” Elladan responded. 
 
The brothers said no more and positioned themselves in different areas of the stable and 
began to bathe the steeds. 
 
Elladan’s mouth fell open. “Are you… are you helping me?” 
 
“Aye,” Haldir said, dousing a stallion with water. 
 
“Why?” Elladan asked in shock. 
 
“Because we are your friends,” Orophin commented. 
 
“And, we want to make sure that you are done with all of these steeds in time for the 
competition in a couple of days,” Rúmil added. “I want to be the first to see your face 
when you lose the first event, the swordfight.” 
 
Elladan scowled at Rúmil but held his tongue. He needed all of the help he could get and 
was in no position to drive away five able bodied elves. He focused his attention on a 
mare that was not to far from him and caught a glimpse of Legolas in a far corner of the 
stable, diligently washing the flank of a large steed. 
 
The prince met Elladan’s eyes for a moment and smiled before turning his attention back 
to the horse. 
 
Elladan felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach; he didn’t know why but he knew in his 
heart that something bad was going to happen. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Thranduil was grief stricken. Elrond’s rejection felt like a mortal wound and resounded in 
his chest every time his heart beat. He left the Mirkwood guesthouse and began to walk. 
He didn’t really care where he went. He just wanted to be alone. He wouldn’t go to the 
grove, not this day. Instead, he decided to take a new path.  
 
As he walked, he tried to push thoughts of Elrond out of his mind. But his unwanted 
memories had a way of persisting, and the king couldn’t stop himself from remembering 
the kiss. He remembered the way Elrond’s warm mouth felt against his and the way the 
lord had trembled when he touched his face. Then his happy memories faded away and 
all he was left with was Elrond’s rejection. It tasted like blood in his mouth, and he felt 
his stomach churn with emotion. He was enraged and sad at the same time. He wondered 
how he could love and hate Elrond all at once. 
 
The king was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t realize that he had left the path 
and was now wandering deep into the forest. When he realized that he had no idea where 
he was, he was relieved in a way. He wanted to be lost; he wanted to be alone. Thranduil 
saw a small clearing in the distance and decided to go settle himself there. He needed 
time to think. 
 
As the king walked toward the secluded place, he began to create a plan of action. He 
knew what Elrond expected. The lord of Rivendell knew him well, and Thranduil knew 
that Elrond would anticipate him to behave the way he had years ago – to lash out 
maliciously. Thus, he would have to do the opposite. He had to prove to Elrond that he 
had grown, that he had really changed… that he truly loved him. And, the only way to do 
that would be through action, not through words. He would have to spend the day, maybe 
even the night, working on himself. He would have to regain his composure and pretend 
that his heart wasn’t bleeding. Thranduil would have to stand by the one he loved more 
than life itself and not touch him and not tell him how much and how deeply he loved 
him. He would have to remain silent, possibly for eternity.  
 
As the king entered the clearing its beauty pleasantly surprised him. Large trees, whose 
leaves acted like a rooftop, shaded it. The branches seemed to intertwine, allowing a bit 
of sunlight to enter the clearing through the multiple leaves. He heard a melodic watery 
sound and looked toward a large tree just to his right. There was a small stream that 
drifted merrily just outside of the forest enclosure. A doe and her fawn regarded 
Thranduil for a moment and bent their necks to partake of some water. Thranduil felt his 
spirits lift just a bit and turned his attention back to the enclosure and gasped audibly with 
shock. There, staring at him wide-eyed was Arwen. 
 
“I… I didn’t see you there,” he stammered, wondering how he could have overlooked 
her.  
 
Arwen smiled faintly. “I am rarely seen, Sire,” she said, standing and curtseying politely.  
 
Thranduil bowed deeply, utterly moved by Arwen’s beauty and ability to blend in this 
place. The elvish maiden was wearing an olive green gown that hung to the ground. It 
was artfully embroidered in an even darker shade of green that outlined the hem, the 
bodice, the sleeves and the neckline. Her wavy, dark brown hair cascaded well beyond 
her waist and the sunlight picked up hues of amber. He skin was the color of the marble 
halls in his meeting hall – a flawless shade of beige, like the finest porcelain in all three 
realms. Her face however, had a rosy glow about it, as though the sun had kissed her 
cheeks. The king met Arwen’s eyes last, and found that he was mesmerized by the depth 
and clarity they possessed. For her young age, he was surprised to discover that he was 
not standing before a foolish child. Instead, he was beholding a female who had suffered 
and endured the tests of life. He suddenly felt the need to speak quickly, as if he had 
interrupted something sacred. “Begging your pardon, Lady Arwen. I did not mean to 
intrude.”  
 
“Fret not,” Arwen said softly, “you did not disturb me.” Her voice broke, giving her 
sadness away. 
 
Thranduil heard Arwen’s voice catch and he regarded her carefully. Until now, he had 
not noticed the tear stains on her cheeks. “Lady Arwen…” he said gently. “If I may ask, 
what is wrong?” 
 
“Nothing, Sire.” 
 
“Your words ring true, but your eyes deceive you.” 
 
Arwen paused before responding. “The foolish worries of a childish female plague my 
heart. But my troubles are nonsensical and unimportant. Do not bother yourself with me. 
I shall only bore you.” 
 
“Not at all,” Thranduil said sincerely. “What ails you?” 
 
“My family.” Arwen replied, unsure of why she was compelled to share her troubles with 
someone she hardly knew. 
 
Thranduil regarded Arwen carefully, unsure of what to say. 
 
“I told you that I would bore you.” 
 
“Nay, I am not bored. I am just surprised. You are concerned about your family?” 
 
“Aye,” Arwen said, nodding. “I am my father’s unknown child. I fade into the 
background when I am in the presence of my brothers. But my invisibility does not make 
me blind. I see all that goes on around me but am powerless and unable to help.” 
 
Thranduil listened to Arwen carefully. 
 
“Something is amiss between Elladan and Elrohir. They disappeared this summer and 
when they came back they were different. There is a dark cloud around them; I can feel 
it. I… I can smell and see blood on their hands.” 
 
“Have you asked them about this?” 
 
“I tried, but they ignored me as usual.” 
 
“Hmm…” Thranduil murmured, nodding his head. 
 
“And Elrohir’s beloved Ellaria is my friend; they are to be wed, but now I am unsure… 
they rarely speak anymore. I… I suspect that they are no longer together.” 
 
“Indeed?” Thranduil said in shock. “Have you mentioned this to your father or 
grandfather?” 
 
“Nay. I did not want to speak too hastily, when I do not know all of the facts.” 
 
“I see.” 
 
“I must sound like a foolish child to you,” Arwen said softly, “to worry about my family 
so much.” 
 
“On the contrary,” Thranduil said, smiling warmly. “I was thinking that your father must 
be very proud of you. You are very strong… to bear such worry alone. Perhaps, your 
strength lies in your femininity. I always wanted a daughter. I believe that the strength of 
a realm lies heavily within the females. That is why Lothlórien is so powerful. It is 
because of your grandmother’s strength that Lórien thrives.” The king paused for a 
moment now more aware than ever as to how much he missed his wife, Areen. Thranduil 
had always had a special respect for female elves. He valued their strength and their 
wisdom and considered them to be superior to the most prominent of males. 
 
Arwen smiled for the first time. “Thank you, Sire.” 
 
Thranduil nodded and smiled at the elven princess. 
 
An unlikely friendship was forged deep in the forest that day. Arwen poured out the 
contents of her heart before the king, telling him about how much she missed her mother 
and of her worries about her secretive brothers. 
 
Thranduil had become so engrossed in Arwen’s tales of woe that he had temporarily 
forgotten all about his troubles. The two elves conversed for hours upon hours, 
completely unaware that they were being watched. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Many hours had passed and at long last the last steed had been bathed. The seven 
exhausted warriors exited the stable, desiring a bath, a warm meal and sleep to soothe 
their aching muscles. 
 
Elladan was grateful to Legolas, Makail, Dace and the Lórien brothers and despite his 
punishment was glad that the day had actually been fun. He invited all of his friends to 
the Rivendell manor for dinner and was happy that the rays of the sun were mostly 
hidden behind a hill in the distance. Elladan loved dusk and the way the orange and pink 
hues waged a losing battle with the glorious veil of cobalt that threatened to dominate the 
sky. As they entered the manor, Elrohir stepped forward, sadness imprinted in the depths 
of his eyes. 
 
“May I speak to you in private, Elladan?” Elrohir asked. 
 
“Of course,” Elladan responded. He turned to Legolas and the others. “Go ahead and eat 
without me.” 
 
The elves nodded and headed toward the dining hall, except for Legolas, who lingered for 
a moment. The prince watched as the twins headed toward a chamber at the end of a long 
hallway and knew in his heart that something was wrong. He would have rather gone 
with Elladan and Elrohir instead of eaten dinner with the others, but he knew better than 
to interfere. Tearing his eyes away from the figures that were now entering the room in 
the distance, Legolas turned and headed for the dining hall. 
 
Elladan turned to face Elrohir but held his tongue. The younger twin’s eyes were red and 
swollen, his skin was sallow and his face was wrought with despair. “I… I… I wanted to 
apologize for abandoning you this morn. It was wrong of me.” 
 
“It was wrong of me to ask you to lie for me,” Elladan said, trying not to show too much 
concern for his twin’s current appearance.  
 
“I… I have spent the whole of the day alone, deep in thought.” 
 
“About what?” 
 
“About…. Everything.” 
 
“Everything?” 
 
“I… I am lost,” Elrohir said unable to keep his voice from breaking.  
 
“What is it?” Elladan asked, placing his hand on Elrohir’s shoulder. 
 
“I tried to speak to Ellaria last night… but she ignored me,” Elrohir said softly. “I knew 
that it was over between us, but I thought that she still may love me… I am not so sure, 
now.” 
 
“She does love you,” Elladan said. 
 
“Nay,” Elrohir whispered. “And soon, once the competition is over, everyone will 
discover the truth. Once the games are over, questions will be asked. Father will want to 
know why we still haven’t gotten married and then the truth will unfold like a bad dream. 
Have you considered what that will mean? When it is discovered that Ellaria broke off 
our engagement because of what happened this summer…” 
 
“Do not think on such things,” Elladan said, unable to hide the worry in his voice. “If it 
comes to that, we will tell everyone that we simply went away for awhile… that we 
needed some time to think.” 
 
“And what about the prophecy?” Elrohir asked. “What about the orc’s words?” 
 
“It was not a prophecy,” Elladan stated. “It was a threat. I do not fear orcs or their words 
of malice… and neither should you.” 
 
Elrohir pulled away from his brother and sat down on a settee, exhausted with worry. 
“Elladan, I lost my mother and Ellaria… I cannot lose you too.” 
 
“You will not lose me.” 
 
“Elladan… Elladan, I… I want to talk to you about Henna.” 
 
Elladan’s face paled. “I can’t… it is still too soon, Elrohir.”  
 
“But Elladan…” 
 
“Elrohir…” Elladan said abruptly, interrupting his twin. “Today has been exhausting, but 
pleasant. I do not wish to think about unpleasant things that happened in the past. Please, 
come and eat with us. Everything will be alright.” Elladan placed his hand on Elrohir 
shoulder and led him toward the dining hall. Even though he had tried to convince Elrohir 
that all was well, he doubted his own words. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Thranduil entered his bedchamber and sighed out loud before deciding that he wanted to 
take a warm bath. Calling upon a nearby attendant, the king busied himself while a 
redheaded she-elf prepared his bath. He noted that being a king did have certain luxuries 
and having one’s own private bathing chamber was his personal favorite. He watched as 
the female elf directed some of male servants, asking them to pour warm water into the 
basin in a small chamber to the south of his room. Servant after servant entered and left 
the room, pouring large casks of water, while others brought clean towels and oils into 
the room, placing them neatly around the basin. Soon, everyone had left his 
bedchamber… except for one. 
 
“Your bath has been drawn, Sire,” the she-elf said, bowing. 
 
“Thank you,” Thranduil said, nodding politely. 
 
“Is there anything else you need?” 
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said. “I believe that everything is in order.” 
 
“Are you certain?” the she-elf asked, placing her foot on a trunk that was at the foot of 
the king’s bed, raising the hem of her skirt to expose her perfect leg. “Is there nothing 
else I can do for you?” 
 
Thranduil stared at the she-elf for a few moments, contemplating the irony of this 
situation. He smiled faintly before responding. “Thank you, but that is not necessary. I 
require nothing more than a hot bath tonight.” 
 
“Very well,” the she-elf responded. “If you should change your mind… I… I am 
available to you. I do not usually offer myself so freely… but… well… it’s you,” she said 
slowly. “It’s you.” 
 
Thranduil didn’t speak; he simply watched the female leave. Once she had exited the 
bedchamber he sank on his bed and held his head in his hands for a few moments. 
 
“Thranduil?” 
 
The king raised his head and smiled faintly at Glorfindel. “Hello.” 
 
“I did not startle you this time?” 
 
“Nay,” Thranduil said, confused. “I am surprised that I perceived you this time… of 
course, I only felt your presence as you passed over the threshold of my room.” 
 
“It isn’t strange,” Glorfindel said, shrugging. “Sometimes I am perceived and sometimes 
I am not. Unlike you, I am both shadow and light--here and not here… both alive and 
dead.” 
 
Thranduil nodded slowly and sighed. He wanted to pretend to be happy in front of 
Glorfindel, but he couldn’t. He knew why Glorfindel had come; he knew that Elrond had 
told the ancient elf about their parting, and thus, he did not offer to explain. Too saddened 
to stand, the king didn’t move from his position on the bed and stared at his hands 
glumly.  
 
Glorfindel felt a swell of pity for Thranduil and watched him for a long time. He no 
longer saw the confident, haughty Mirkwood king. Instead, Thranduil looked like a lost 
boy. The king looked smaller and wounded. Glorfindel allowed his eyes to travel to 
Thranduil’s arm and noticed that Elrond’s bandage was still neatly wrapped around his 
forearm. “How is your arm? Has it healed?” 
 
Thranduil regarded his arm, gently touching the bandage. “Almost…” he said softly. The 
king was lying; his wound had completely healed overnight. But he wasn’t ready to let go 
of the memory of Elrond’s healing touch… not yet. 
 
Somehow Glorfindel understood and simply nodded his head slowly. “I can leave if 
you’d like to go and bathe.” He turned and took a step toward the doorway. 
 
“Nay!” Thranduil said quickly, rising to his feet abruptly.  
 
Glorfindel turned and faced the king, surprised by his sudden actions. 
 
“I…” Thranduil said a bit embarrassed, “please stay… I… I…” 
 
Glorfindel approached the king and stood before him, staring into his eyes. “Aye?” 
 
“I need a friend this day,” Thranduil said honestly. 
 
Glorfindel smiled. “Are you certain that you want to spend your time with me? Pria, the 
chambermaid, seemed very anxious to be with you.” 
 
“You heard her?” 
 
“I did.” 
 
“It is not uncommon,” Thranduil said. “Offers such as hers are frequent. I have been 
approached in a similar way by seven elves since I have arrived here… three males and 
four females.” 
 
“Many elves would like to change places with you. Pria is quite attractive… few would 
refuse her,” Glorfindel remarked. 
 
“She can only satisfy my body,” Thranduil said slowly. “When I was very young, before 
I was wed, I took my pleasure with many ‘Prias.’ But… I need more now. I no longer 
seek to quench my carnal desire alone… but to satiate my soul.” 
 
Glorfindel nodded. 
 
“But… but he doesn’t want me,” Thranduil said, looking at the floor.” 
 
Glorfindel didn’t know what to say. He wanted to comfort Thranduil but wasn’t sure 
how. After a brief pause, he placed his hand on the king’s shoulder. “Would you like to 
ride for a while?” 
 
Thranduil raised his head, reluctantly meeting Glorfindel’s eyes and nodded slowly. 
 
No more words passed between the companions. They exited the bedchamber and headed 
for the stable. 
 
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
 
Later, Thranduil entered his dark bedchamber and sighed. He looked at his bed, knowing 
that his dreams would be filled of Elrond… and his rejection. Although he had gained a 
friend in Arwen this day, he was still tending to the wounds on his aching heart… hurts 
that he had to bear alone.  
 
Removing his over tunic and laying it on his bed, the king of Mirkwood opened the doors 
that led out onto the terrace. He walked onto the balcony and looked at the star-filled sky 
above, noting the brightness of the half-full moon. He unbraided his hair and let it dance 
on the gentle wind, playing upon his face gracefully. He stood there for over an hour, 
willing the wind to take his cares away. But then, something drew his attention. He saw 
two figures racing out toward a small pond in the distance. He watched a blonde-haired 
male pull his undertunic over his head and throw it on the ground, while the other male 
watched him. The blonde male seemed to be laughing and pushed the dark-haired male in 
the water, still fully clothed. The dark-haired male emerged from the depths of the pond, 
grabbed the blonde male’s hand and pulled him into the water. Thranduil watched as the 
males splashed one another and pushed one another before he realized that he was 
watching his son; it was Legolas and Elladan in the distance. He watched as they 
embraced one another and indulged in a tender kiss.  
 
From so far away, Thranduil noticed how familiar the males looked--like younger 
versions of him and Elrond. But unlike the two of them, Legolas and Elladan would have 
their chance at love. And though Thranduil loved his children above all others, he found 
that he was jealous of his youngest son that night. It was not envy full of malice, but one 
of coveting. The king wanted to be loved, but knew that it wasn’t meant to be… that he 
would spend the remainder of his days alone. He had no idea that in the manor, adjacent 
to his guesthouse, Elrond stood on a terrace, watching two lovers swim and embrace 
under the moonlight. He didn’t know that Elrond’s heart and body ached for him, or that 
he Lord of Rivendell was completely in love with him.
 
--- 
 


Chapter 13: What Lies in Dreams


The next two days passed by quickly in Rivendell as warriors prepared 
themselves for the first competition. Legolas and Elladan hadn’t seen 
much of one another. Elladan was going to be one of the competitors in 
the events taking place on the first day of the games and was busily 
practicing and perfecting his swordsmanship. Legolas, too, was very busy 
helping his brothers prepare for battle.

Elladan paced nervously around his bedchamber waiting for the horn of 
Rivendell to call all of the warriors to the battlefield. He checked his 
reflection in the mirror and sighed. He didn’t think that his tunic, which 
bore the colors of Rivendell, made him look very attractive. In fact, he 
wasn’t sure if he really liked the color blue. *It is such a sad color.* But 
then he thought about the hue of Legolas’ eyes and quickly changed his 
mind. He missed the elven prince and wished he had time to speak to him 
before the competition. He fondled the necklace that Legolas had given 
him as an engagement gift, suddenly feeling as it was a link to his lover.

“Elladan?”

The dark-haired warrior turned around and smiled. “Hello, Legolas.”

Legolas returned the smiled and looked Elladan up and down. “Hmm… 
you do not usually wear blue.”

“I know,” Elladan pouted. “I look like a creature from the sea.”

Legolas chuckled. “Actually, I was thinking that you look like one of the 
Valar. You should wear blue more often; it compliments you.”

“Thank you,” Elladan said unenthusiastically.

“I have missed you these last two days. We have spent far too much time 
apart since I have returned to Rivendell.”

“That is true,” Elladan remarked, pacing around the room once again. 
“How have you been these last two days? Have you had any more 
nightmares?”

“Nay,” Legolas lied. “In fact, I haven’t slept lately. I have been busy 
helping Makail and Dace prepare for today’s sword competition.”

Elladan stopped pacing for a moment and regarded Legolas. “And how are 
your brothers spirits this day? Are they ready for the competition?”

“They are in good spirits… especially Dace. Apparently, Father did not 
tell Tialise that Dace had been confined to his quarters for the opening 
ceremony. Instead, he told her that his sons were tending to some royal 
matters… then he invited her to partake of the evening meal with us soon 
after the opening ceremony; she dinned with us last night. I have never 
seen Dace look so happy. Makail is still a bit saddened by his recent 
separation with Danal, but told me that he is not ready for a new 
relationship just yet. Anyway, they are both doing well and seem ready for 
today’s battle.”

“Sorry to hear it,” Elladan said, pacing around the room again.

“Why?”
“Just ignore me. I am so nervous… even my teeth are agitated.”

Legolas chuckled. “Being nervous is normal and expected before a 
competition.”

“I know. But… well… I am so nervous that I am afraid it will affect my 
performance. What if I drop my sword because my hands are shaking so 
fiercely? Legolas, this competition will be in front of elves from every 
realm. What if I humiliate myself in front of everyone?”

“You won’t.”

Elladan scoffed. “Look at my hands.” He held the palms of his hands out 
so the prince could inspect them. “How can I hold my sword when I am in 
this state?”

Legolas grasped both of Elladan’s hands and pulled him close. “I can 
think of only one thing that will calm your nerves.”

“What?”

The prince smiled, planting a soft kiss on his lover’s mouth and began to 
tug at the waistband of Elladan’s leggings. 

“Legolas, what are you doing? Legolas… Legolas, I do not have time for 
this right now. I will be summoned in just a few moments.”

“Do you wish to be calmed or don’t you?”

“I… I want to be calm… but…”

“Stop protesting and let me help you, then,” the prince interrupted. 
Legolas slid Elladan’s leggings down his legs to his feet.

“Why are you trying to help me?” Elladan asked in dismay. “Both of your 
brothers are competing today. Don’t you want them to win… don’t you 
want Mirkwood to win?”

“Calming you will not necessarily help you to win; your skill, not your 
nerves will have to be greater than my brothers’ in order for you to win. I 
do not feel disloyal for helping you. You are correct, my allegiance is to 
my realm… but if my brothers do not win, then I hope you do.”

Elladan smiled and then gasped when Legolas stroked the tip of his 
member. 

The prince knelt before Elladan, positioning himself directly in front of the 
Rivendell elf’s member. Grasping it firmly, Legolas began to work his 
hand up and down the long shaft slowly.

Elladan moaned and placed his hands on the prince’s shoulders. “Le… 
Legolas… Legolas… what are you doing? I… I thought we were going 
to… I thought you wanted to lay together.”

The prince looked up at Elladan and smiled. “I am not the one who is 
nervous. Listen, Elladan, release has a calming effect. So, relax. Enjoy 
this.”

Elladan nodded slowly and then inhaled sharply when he felt Legolas’ 
tongue dancing across the tip of his now hardened shaft. “Mmm… 
Legolas,” he groaned as the prince nearly swallowed his entire member, 
sucking forcefully and stroking his twin sacks deftly.

Legolas loved to pleasure Elladan and especially enjoyed the fact that his 
lover was seemingly overcome with desire. Every moan, gasp and groan 
was encouraging, and he sought to take Elladan to new heights with the 
passing of each moment.

Elladan bit his lower lip, trying not scream Legolas’ name… trying to stop 
the gyrating movement of his hips, but the world seemed to be crashing 
down all around him. Waves of pleasure overcame him. He threw his head 
back when he felt Legolas’ teeth graze the tip of his member and could 
feel his release drawing near. 

Legolas continued to suck and lick Elladan’s shaft, lavishing the large 
organ with attention. He watched Elladan for a moment and smiled 
wickedly; he recognized the expression of near-release on his lover’s face. 
So, he thrust Elladan’s member into his mouth once again, moving his 
shaft in and out rapidly.

Elladan dug his nails into Legolas’ shoulders, unable to hold on any 
longer. He moaned when he spilled his seed into the prince’s mouth, 
slumping over in exhaustion.

Legolas stood, pulling Elladan’s leggings up from around his ankles and 
back around his waist.

Elladan watched the prince walk over to the dresser and pour himself a 
glass of water. The prince took a long sip and smiled. Walking over to his 
lover, Legolas offered the glass to Elladan. “Would you like some?”

Elladan nodded slowly, taking the glass and drinking the rest of the water 
in a single gulp.

Legolas grinned. “How do you feel?”

“A little tired.”

“But not nervous.”

Elladan paused and then smiled. “You are right; I am not nervous at all.”
Legolas’ smile widened. “Lay on the bed for a few moments before the 
horn blows. I will stay here with you to make sure you do not oversleep. 
And when you awaken, you will be rejuvenated and ready for battle.”

Elladan nodded and climbed onto his bed. He was a bit surprised when 
Legolas curled up beside him, cradling his head in his arms and stroking 
his hair gently. Legolas wasn’t usually very affectionate. At any rate, 
Elladan appreciated his lover’s attentiveness and felt himself drifting into 
slumber.

Legolas observed Elladan, staring at the plains of his perfect face. His love 
for the Rivendell elf seemed overwhelming suddenly and he felt emotion 
begin to churn inside of him. He wanted to protect Elladan from the 
horrors of the world; he wanted to shelter him, to never let him go. 
Legolas gasped and touched his face; there were tears on his cheeks and 
didn’t know why. After all, Elladan didn’t need his protection. Elladan 
was an accomplished warrior. So, why was he crying? What was wrong 
with him?

Elladan stirred suddenly and Legolas planted a kiss on the warrior’s 
temple. In the distance the horn of Rivendell sounded.

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

“Greetings all,” Elrond began, scanning the crowd attentively. The Lord of 
Rivendell stood on a platform before an enormous mass of elves from all 
three realms. The spectators surrounded a large, grassy clearing where 
most of the battles would take place. His eyes fell upon Thranduil for a 
moment and he felt his heart catch in his chest. As always, the king of 
Mirkwood looked stunning. He was bedecked in the beautiful, autumn 
colors of Mirkwood, sporting an elegant olive colored tunic and bark 
colored leggings. A simple, but stunning crown of leaves ornamented the 
king’s head and his eyes sparkled with mirth. Elrond faltered when 
looking at the king, but quickly regained his composure when Glorfindel 
nudged his ribs firmly. “As most of you know, today’s events will involve 
the sword. Yesterday, a private, single realm, preliminary match was held 
to determine who would be allowed to compete in today’s tournament. All 
interested warriors fought elves from their own realm; the winners, the 
best from each realm, will face the best from other kingdoms to determine 
the final winner. The champions from yesterday’s match are as follows: 
from Lórien, Rúmil and Orophin will be in the sword fight tournaments 
and Haldir will compete in the forms competition; from Mirkwood, Dace 
and Makail will be in the swordfight tournament and Makail will make 
another appearance in the forms competition; and for Rivendell, Elladan 
and Elrohir will be in the sword competition and Elrohir will make a 
second appearance in the forms competition.”

The crowd erupted with applause. 

Elrond smiled, raising his hands to silence the crowd. “The first battle, the 
single swordfight, is about to take place. Would all of the competitors for 
the first battle come forth?”

Elladan, Rúmil and Dace stepped forward into the center of the battlefield 
and faced Elrond.

“The three of you will be battling with one another. Do you fully 
understand that you are to cause no major harm to your opponent?”

“Aye,” the warriors chorused.

Elrond nodded. “Good. Your goal is to force your opponent out of the pre-
marked area. The last elf in the main area of the battlefield is the winner. 
Is that understood?”

“Aye.”

“Other-realm judges, would you please come forth?” Elrond asked.

Celeborn emerged from the crowd at once and took his place on the 
platform beside Elrond. Thranduil made his way through the crowd as 
quickly as possible but noticed that he was met with strange looks and 
excessive whispering. Finally reaching the platform, the king took a seat 
beside Elrond and felt as though the entire crowd was staring at him. He 
glanced at Elrond, Celeborn and Glorfindel for a moment, and they also 
seemed to notice the odd behavior of most of the elves.

Elrond was puzzled but decided to try to focus the crowd’s attention back 
on the competition. “Glorfindel, would you take your place on the 
battlefield? You will determine, in case there is any question, whether or 
not someone steps outside of the battle area.”

Glorfindel nodded, stepped off of the platform and took his position on the 
battlefield.

“Warriors, take your mark,” Celeborn said.

Elladan, Rúmil and Dace stood facing one another, in a triangular type of 
formation. They raised their swords above their heads, allowing the tips to 
touch.

“Begin!” Celeborn exclaimed.

The crowd went wild as the battle began. Swords clanged loudly as the 
warriors fought for their realm. 

Elladan’s nervousness had completely disappeared. He quickly repelled a 
strike that was launched by Dace, nearly knocking the Mirkwood warrior 
over by the force of his counterattack. 

Rúmil took advantage of Dace’s stumble and struck the Mirkwood 
warrior’s sword as hard as he could, forcing him out of the enclosure.

A groan emerged from the disappointed Mirkwood onlookers, but warriors 
from Rivendell and Lórien cheered louder than ever.

Legolas was sorry to see Dace lose. He looked to where his brother was 
standing and saw that Tialise was already tending to Dace’s wounded ego. 
Legolas smiled when he saw that Tialise was wearing Mirkwood colors. 
He focused his attention on Elladan once more and felt himself become a 
bit aroused. Elladan looked so alluring when he was in the midst of battle, 
staring at his opponent dangerously. Legolas had never had the chance to 
watch his lover fight. He hated to admit it, but Elladan was the best 
swordsman he had ever seen. He knew it was unlikely that Makail and 
Dace would be able to defeat Elladan and Elrohir in the next match.

Elladan and Rúmil paused for a moment before resuming their battle. 
Elladan waited patiently, knowing that Rúmil was a bit impetuous and 
would strike first. 

As expected, Rúmil struck out abruptly, hoping to catch Elladan off guard.

Unfortunately for Rúmil, Elladan had anticipated this kind of battle tactic 
and met his blade with great force. 

Stunned by the power of Elladan’s strike, Rúmil was unprepared for the 
Rivendell elf’s attack. 

Elladan began wielding his sword in such a bizarre way, that Rúmil was 
not sure how to counter. Elladan switched hands, twirled the blade in his 
hands and continuously struck Rúmil’s sword, all the while forcing Rúmil 
closer and closer to the edge of the enclosure. 

Rúmil battled fiercely, but was no match for Elladan’s skill. Within 
moments, he had been forced out of the surround and the inhabitants from 
Rivendell began to cheer. Elladan had won.

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

The next competition, the doubles dual, went well for Rivendell. Elladan 
and Elrohir were an unstoppable force together, defeating both 
Mirkwood’s and Lórien’s teams of warriors. Rúmil and Orophin and Dace 
and Makail proved to be no match for the twins, and actually seemed to 
struggle against the Rivendell brothers’ vicious tactics. The crowd cheered 
wildly from every realm in awe of Elladan and Elrohir’s sword fighting 
prowess. When all was said and done, no one could argue that the twins 
were two of the best swordsmen in Middle-earth.

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

It was now midday and the competitions came to a halt so that the warriors 
could rest and everyone could have some time to partake of the midday 
meal. 

Legolas decided to dine with his dejected brothers so he could offer some 
cheer, despite their defeat. He soon discovered that Tialise offered more 
comfort to Dace than he could, and watched her hug and kiss his worries 
away. So, he focused his attention on Makail who genuinely seemed to 
appreciate his company. Legolas was especially pleased when his older 
brother laughed at one of his off-color jokes, realizing that Elladan had 
influenced his sense of humor.

After lunch, the prince decided to go for a walk alone; he wanted some 
time to think about all that was happening to him and wanted to analyze 
his new, overwhelming feelings of emotion and protection for Elladan. 
Walking alone for a while, he stopped abruptly when he saw an elf in the 
distance; it was Haldir.

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

Haldir practiced his forms routine over and over again, perfecting his 
moves with each attempt. He positioned his sword high in the air and 
stepped forward gracefully, swinging the weapon downward in a swift 
motion. Bringing the sword upward, he lunged forward and gasped when 
he saw someone standing there… it was Glorfindel. Haldir gained his 
composure quickly and bowed deeply. “Begging your pardon… I… I… 
did not sense you.” The words felt strange on Haldir’s lips… probably 
because he had never said them before.

“I am both shadow and light,” Glorfindel remarked. “My presence is not 
often perceived.”

“Ah, yes,” Haldir said, nodding. “I have heard stories about your departure 
and reentry into this world.”

Glorfindel nodded. “I was watching you.”

Haldir felt his face redden. “You… you were?”

“Aye, you are a very good swordsman, your form is excellent.”

“Thank you,” Haldir said, beaming inwardly, but maintaining his outward 
composure.

“Good luck in the forms competition.”

“Thank you.”

Glorfindel bowed and walked away.

Haldir watched the ancient warrior until he disappeared into the forest. He 
turned and gasped audibly when he saw Legolas standing before him. 
“Prince… Legolas!”

Legolas stared at Haldir in shock, surprised by his startled reaction.
“I… I am sorry. I did not know you were there,” Haldir said, giving the 
prince a strange look. “I did not sense you…” 

Legolas began to speak but was taken aback when Haldir raised his sword, 
pointing it at his chest.

Haldir stared at the prince for a moment before speaking. “Who are you?”

“What?” Legolas asked in dismay. “I am Prince Legolas, son of 
Thranduil…”

“I did not sense you drawing near. You are not the king’s son.”

Legolas’ mouth fell open. He was shocked by Haldir’s actions, but tried to 
remain calm. “It is I, Haldir. I **am** Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. If 
you did not sense me, it may be because you were preoccupied with 
Glorfindel.”

Haldir pondered these words for a moment and lowered his sword. He 
bowed deeply and cast his eyes to the ground. “I am sorry, your Highness. 
I meant no offense.”

Legolas smiled and grasped Haldir by the shoulders. “You needn’t be 
sorry. You were only startled. Please rise, you are not required to bow to 
me.”

Haldir stood and regarded the prince. Legolas looked different somehow. 
There was something luminous about him.

“I saw you practicing with the sword,” Legolas said, interrupting Haldir’s 
thoughts. “You are quite good.”

“Thank you,” Haldir said, smiling. “Glorfindel said the same thing.”

Legolas nodded.

“Legolas… do you think… do you think that someone like me would ever 
have a chance with Glorfindel?”
 
The prince regarded the Lórien warrior for a moment, trying to think of an 
answer to his question. He was tempted to lie but decided that telling the 
truth would be better, as he did not want to mislead his new friend. “I am 
not certain, of course,” Legolas began, “but in truth I must say that it is 
very unlikely Glorfindel will ever see you in the manner that you see 
him.”

Haldir’s shoulders drooped, as did his head. He stared at the ground sadly.

“I… Haldir, I am sorry,” Legolas said gently. He placed his hand on one 
of the crestfallen warrior’s shoulders and reproached himself inwardly for 
deciding to be so honest. “It is just that Glorfindel is so… so… 
untouchable… so unreachable. If the truth be told, I would be surprised to 
see him with anyone.”

“Except you,” Haldir said, raising his head and meeting Legolas’ crystal, 
blue eyes. “If you desired him, Glorfindel would not deny you.”

Legolas stared at Haldir in shock for a moment and then smiled. Soon, he 
was laughing good-naturedly. 

Haldir wasn’t offended by the prince’s laughter; it warmed his heart 
somehow. The youngest prince of Mirkwood was so charming that even 
his laughter was alluring. 

“Me? You believe that Glorfindel would want me?” Legolas asked, 
amused by the notion.

“Aye,” Haldir replied, shrugging. “You are everything I am not. You are 
sophisticated, fair, poised and humorous. Next to you I am a dead leaf on a 
tree.”

“You imply that your humor is nonexistent,” the prince commented 
between chuckles. “You are obviously very comical if you believe that 
Glorfindel would desire me. Despite what you think, you are every bit as 
fair and as poised as me. You carry yourself with a great deal of aplomb.”

“But I lack your confidence,” Haldir lamented. “Whenever Glorfindel is 
near I cower before him.”

“Yet you have something I do not.”

“I do?”

“Aye,” the prince nodded as he spoke. “You are at least a thousand years 
my senior. Methinks that Glorfindel is not as impressed with bearing and 
attractiveness as he is with age and wisdom. Without these, I believe that 
it would be very difficult to sway the elder.”

“Maybe you are right,” Haldir said sadly. “What a cruel fate it is to love 
someone that you can never have.”

“There will be others,” Legolas said, trying to raise Haldir’s spirits.

“Nay,” Haldir said, shaking his head. “My heart belongs to Glorfindel. I 
shall never love anyone else.”

Legolas placed his hand on Haldir’s shoulder once again and felt 
something odd. Coldness crept over him. He saw, in his mind’s eye, dark 
clouds forming all around Haldir and darkness overtaking him. The prince 
removed his hand from the Lórien warrior abruptly as though he had been 
burned and stared at it, awestruck.

“What is it?” Haldir asked.

“…Nothing… it is nothing,” Legolas smiled sincerely as the strange 
images of Haldir faded away.

“You looked… frightened,” Haldir said slowly, not wanting to anger the 
prince. “Your expression reminded me of the night you were having the 
nightmare…”

Legolas nodded slowly. “Aye, my dreams seem to be haunting not only 
my nights but my days as well. I just had some disturbing thoughts… I… I 
am not certain as to their nature.”

“Does Elladan know about your dreams?”

“Aye,” Legolas said. “Aside from him, you are the only one who knows.”

“Your brothers do not know?” Haldir asked in shock.

“Nay,” Legolas admitted, shrugging. “They would fret and tell my father. 
Then he would fret and tell Elrond. Then everyone would fret. What 
would possibly be accomplished by anyone else finding out?”

“Perhaps, you could be helped,” Haldir encouraged gently, making sure to 
tread softly around the prince’s quick temper. 

“Perhaps,” Legolas said. “But methinks I will be fine. But between you 
and Elladan’s constant harassment to expose my ailment, I am uncertain as 
to the state of my sanity by the time my dreams cease.”

“Elladan wants you to tell Lord Elrond about your dreams?” Haldir asked, 
surprised.
“Aye,” Legolas replied. “He is very concerned about me… he always is.”

Haldir’s eyes widened but he didn’t speak. He had known Elladan since he 
was a mere babe and couldn’t quite fathom the concerned, caring 
individual that Legolas was speaking of. The Elladan he knew was foolish, 
immature and more than a little bit selfish. 

“You do not believe that Elladan is good enough for me, do you?” Legolas 
asked, interrupting Haldir’s thoughts.

“I…”

“Do not try to deny it,” Legolas said. “I can see the disapproval in your 
eyes.”

Haldir cursed inwardly, but met the prince’s eyes. “I have known Elladan 
for a long time. It is not that I believe he is beneath you. I guess it is 
difficult for me to understand what you see in him. In my experience, he is 
quite difficult to get along with.”

Legolas smiled. “I have seen the two of you argue; you behave like 
brothers.”

“We are… in a way,” Haldir said, relieved that he hadn’t angered the 
prince. “Or, perhaps, I am like an uncle to Elladan. The Lady and Lord of 
Lórien are almost like my parents…”

“It is the depth of your bickering that intrigues me,” Legolas said slowly. I 
have often wondered if the two of you argue so fiercely because you are 
former lovers.”

Haldir’s mouth fell open in shock. “Former lover… of… of Elladan? 
Me?”

“Do not fret,” Legolas said simply. “We all have a past.”

“That is true,” Haldir said, “but be assured that Elladan is not part of mine. 
Our arguments are based on mutual annoyance with one another and 
nothing more.”

The prince nodded and smiled. “Do not fear for me. While Elladan may 
seem foolhardy it is merely a guise he uses to protect his heart. He is not 
as nonsensical as he seems.”

Haldir nodded politely but disagreed inwardly. He would never understand 
why Legolas would consort with Elladan.

“As for Glorfindel,” the prince continued, interrupting Haldir’s thoughts, 
“I may be wrong about him. Perhaps he is slow to warm to the idea of 
companionship. From what I have heard, he has been alone for hundreds 
of years.”

“Thousands of years,” Elladan stated as he, Elrohir, Dace, Makail and 
Haldir’s younger brothers entered the clearing.

“Hello, Elladan,” Legolas said, meeting his lover’s storm colored eyes.

“Hello.”

Legolas wanted to congratulate Elladan on his victorious morning, but 
refrained from doing so in front of his brothers.

Without speaking, Elladan seemed to understand; he turned his attention 
to Haldir. “Are you still enamored with Glorfindel? I care for the old elf 
very much but get a new pastime, Haldir. The ancient-elf-young-elf 
scenario is quite rare…”

“It is not as uncommon as you think,” Orophin interrupted, grinning.

“What do you mean?” Elladan asked.

“There is a rumor that Arwen has become involved with an elder.”

“What?” Elrohir asked in shock. “An elder? Who?”

Orophin paused before continuing, staring at the Mirkwood princes for 
permission to continue. He was surprised by their vacant expressions and 
decided to continue. “I mean no disrespect,” he said to them. “I have been 
told that Arwen and King Thranduil have found favor with one another.”

The Mirkwood princes exchanged disbelieving glances. 

“Arwen and King Thranduil?” Elladan asked, unable to keep his voice 
low. “That is not very funny, Orophin. If you would choose to be a court 
jester then I suggest you have adequate training first. You should study by 
your oldest brother’s side, for he is one of the funniest elves I know.”

Haldir grimaced and cast Elladan a reproachful look.

“I am not jesting; the courtship between Arwen and the king is the topic of 
every conversation in all three realms.”

“What?” Elladan asked, looking at the Mirkwood princes.

“I do not know,” Legolas said, shrugging. “It cannot be true… I do not 
think it can be true, anyway. Arwen is like a younger sister to me. So, I 
cannot imagine my father having a relationship with her. She is so 
young… she is even younger than I… nay, certainly he would not pursue 
one so innocent.” 

“From what I have heard Arwen is not innocent anymore,” Orophin 
added.

“What do you mean?” Elrohir asked, rounding on Orophin.

“Do not be angry with me,” Orophin said quickly, noting the enmity in the 
younger twin’s eyes. “I was told that Arwen and the king have already… 
that is to say… they…”

“Please do not tell me that they were intimate,” Elladan said, interrupting 
Orophin.

“That is what everyone is saying,” Orophin confirmed, keeping a close 
eye on Elrohir.

“I do not believe it,” Makail said firmly. “Legolas, Dace, we must speak to 
Father at once. Let us depart and talk to him prior to the next 
competition.”

Legolas and Dace nodded and went in search for their father.

“Perhaps we should go and speak with Arwen,” Elladan suggested just as 
he sensed her approaching.

“Why do you wish to speak with me?” Arwen asked, stepping into the 
clearing.

“Arwen…”

“Aye.”

“Arwen, there are… rumors… about you.”

“Rumors?”

“Aye. According to Orophin, every elf in the land is saying that you and 
king Thranduil are… are…”

“Lovers,” Elrohir said, completing Elladan’s sentence. He folded his arms 
across his chest in indignation.

Arwen’s eyes widened and her face flushed slightly.

“Arwen, I demand an answer from you at once,” Elladan commanded. “As 
your older brother you are required to disclose your whereabouts to me.”

Arwen stared at Elladan in shock for a moment and then felt a knot of 
anger form in her stomach. “I will reveal nothing to you, Elladan. I am 
fully grown and am not required to share personal matters with you.”

“Personal matters?” Elrohir asked, meeting Elladan’s horror filled eyes.

“So, it is true, then,” Elladan stated, shaking his head. “You and the king 
were… intimate.”

“My relationship with the king does not concern you,” Arwen said coolly 
as Haldir, Orophin and Rúmil watched the saga unfold.

“Yes, it does,” Elladan said angrily. “Firstly, I am going to wed the king’s 
son. Secondly, your thoughtless actions could mar our good family’s 
name. And thirdly, the notion of you and Thranduil is revolting!”

“Revolting?” Arwen asked angrily, rounding on Elladan.

“Aye, it is completely disgusting,” Elladan spat, folding his arms across 
his chest and glaring at Arwen. “How could you disgrace yourself this 
way?”

“Disgrace myself?” Arwen asked. “And why can I not take a lover? I am 
fully grown and am not devoid of desire.”

“But why would king Thranduil want you?” Elrohir asked, shaking his 
head.

“Why not?” Arwen retorted, glaring at Elrohir. “If you recall, Legolas 
once said that I am fit for a king and may marry one someday.”

“It is not that you are not good enough for King Thranduil,” Elrohir said, 
trying to hide the annoyance in his voice. “It is just that…”

“It is just that I had a shred of respect for King Thranduil until today,” 
Elladan said, interrupting Elrohir. “I thought that the king had better things 
to do than to play with impressionable, little females. Arwen, you must tell 
me that the king did not… deflower you.” 

“Whom I bed is no concern of yours.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Elladan asked. “You sound like a harlot!”

Without hesitation, Arwen slapped Elladan’s face as hard as she could.

Elladan was so stunned by the blow that he didn’t speak. He simply 
touched his face and stared at his sister in shock.

“You will not treat me like a child,” Arwen spat. “Perhaps next time you 
will think before you speak to me so brashly.” Without another word, 
Arwen turned and stalked away, muttering something under her breath. 

Elladan met Elrohir’s eyes and shook his head. “We must go and speak 
with Father at once.”

The twins raced toward the manor leaving the Lórien brothers to form 
their own conclusions.

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

“Father,” Makail said as he entered that Mirkwood guesthouse. 

“Aye,” Thranduil responded, hurriedly exiting the parlor when he heard 
the panic in his son’s voice. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I… I…”

“What is it, Makail?” Thranduil asked firmly.

“There are rumors,” Makail said slowly. 

“Rumors?” Thranduil asked, perplexed. “Rumors about what?”

“About you,” Dace added, deciding to assist Makail.

“Me?” the king asked, surprised. “Why? What rumors?”

The princes remained silent.

“I beseech you to tell me what is being said about me.”

“We were told that you and Arwen are…”

“Yes?” Thranduil said impatiently.

“That the two of you are lovers,” Legolas said.

Thranduil blinked forcefully for a few moments and smiled. His smile 
widened until he began to chuckle. Then, the king began to laugh. He 
laughed until his face reddened pleasantly. 

Legolas, Makail and Dace sighed with relief, assuming that their father’s 
laughter indicated that the rumors were not true.

“Where did you hear this absurd tale?” Thranduil managed to ask between 
chuckles.

“One of the marchwardens from Lórien told us that everyone in all three 
realms is talking about it,” Dace explained.

“That would explain the strange looks I was receiving this morn,” 
Thranduil said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. 

“Why would someone say such a thing, Father?” Makail asked.

“I spent quite a bit of time with Arwen recently,” Thranduil said. “We had 
a nice discussion in the cover of the woods, but someone must have seen 
us and assumed we were meeting secretly.”

“But why would anyone think that?” Dace asked.

“I do not know,” Thranduil said, seriously. “When I find out who is 
responsible, however, he or she will have to answer to me.”

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

“Father! Father!” Elladan called as he and Elrohir raced into the manor.

“What is it?” Elrond asked as he Celeborn and Glorfindel emerged from 
the healing chamber.

“Father, we must speak to you at once,” Elladan said.

“What happened to your face?” Celeborn asked, noticing that Elladan’s 
right cheek was bright red.

“Arwen,” Elladan remarked.

“Arwen?” Glorfindel asked. “What do you mean?”

“Arwen struck me,” Elladan said simply, “when I confronted her about 
King Thranduil.”

“Wait, slow down,” Elrond said. “Come into the healing chamber and let 
me apply a poultice to your face.” Elladan and the others followed Elrond 
into the room and waited until the lord had gathered some herbs and began 
using a pestle and mortar to crush them. “Now, what happened? Why did 
you confront Arwen? And what does any of this have to do with King 
Thranduil?”

“You do not know, then?” Elrohir asked.

“Know what?”

“About the rumors.”

“What rumors?”

“Word has spread across this land that Arwen and Thranduil have had… 
intimate relations,” Elrohir said.

Celeborn’s mouth fell open and Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged 
horrified looks.  

“As soon as we heard the rumors, we spoke with Arwen,” Elladan 
explained. “She became very defensive and slapped me.”

“This cannot be true,” Celeborn said, shaking his head. “Thranduil is very 
honorable. He would not despoil Arwen. If he were going to court her, he 
would do it in a proper manner.”

“She did not deny it,” Elrohir added. “In fact, she said that who she beds is 
her own concern.”

Elrond’s face paled. “I will speak to Thranduil after the forms 
competition.”

“As will I,” Celeborn said, between clenched teeth. “If what you say is 
true, Elladan and Elrohir, a new event may be added to the competition 
roster. It shall be named ‘the Killing of a King!’”

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

All of the excitement about Arwen and Thranduil’s alleged affair had put a 
damper on the day’s final event. Celeborn glared at the King constantly 
who seemed indifferent to the ever-increasing stares of his comrades. 
Arwen made a point to speak to the king who smiled warmly and invited 
her to sit with him and Tialise. Of course, this only incriminated him more 
in the eyes of everyone, especially Celeborn who began to tremble with 
rage. 

Glorfindel, Thranduil and Celeborn were the judges in the forms 
competition and watched each contestant compete, in the center of the 
enclosure, to determine who had the most fluid performance. 

Much to Elladan’s dismay, Haldir won the competition, defeating both 
Elrohir and Makail. Of course, Elladan protested his younger brother’s 
loss to his grandfather and to their teacher, Glorfindel, but to no avail. 

Glorfindel simply said that Elrohir kept dropping his shoulder, just like his 
father Elrond, and refused to comment further. 

Elladan was convinced his grandfather’s anger toward the king had forced 
him to choose Haldir as the winner and that Glorfindel’s subconscious 
desire for Haldir had swayed his decision as well. He was already quite 
cross after his encounter with Arwen and decided that another 
confrontation would only enhance his day. He watched an elated Haldir 
enter the woods and followed behind him, ready to protest the victory that 
he felt was owed to Elrohir.

The sky had darkened considerably, a testament to an impending 
thunderstorm.

Elladan looked at the sky and nodded. He watched as a bolt of lightening 
passed through the sky and felt quite justified. *Perhaps the heavens had a 
bad day, too.*

Legolas could see the embittered expression on his lover’s face and knew 
that no good would come from an altercation between Elladan and Haldir. 
He raced into the woods behind them and could see Haldir walking a few 
paces ahead of Elladan. He heard Elladan call Haldir’s name. 

Haldir stopped under a massive tree and turned to face Elladan. He folded 
his arms across his chest as if in anticipation of a quarrel.

Legolas stopped suddenly when he heard a strange sound. It was as though 
the wind had surrounded him and he could hear nothing… nothing except 
for the whoosh of air that engulfed him. He could see, however, and saw 
darkness form around Haldir. He felt a cold hand clutch him around the 
neck and begin to squeeze. He couldn’t breathe; he was dying. He tried to 
scream but he couldn’t. He could taste the blood in his mouth… the taste 
of death. He saw a bolt of lightening strike an enormous limb directly 
above Haldir and watched it plummet to the ground crushing the Lórien 
marchwarden and splitting his head in two. The innards spilt onto the 
ground, slowly seeping out like molasses from a tree. He watched as 
Elladan fell to the ground in horror and sobbed hysterically. 

Suddenly, Legolas seemed to awaken from this strange dream. He could 
still taste the blood… still feel the coldness… death was in the air. The 
hand released him, the funnel of air was gone, but the image of Haldir 
lingered on in his mind. The prince looked upward and saw lightening 
streak through the air, its tendrils threading across the sky in warning. 
Thunder boomed above; it was laughter. The sky was laughing at him… 
taunting. *Save him if you can,* it said. 

Legolas felt the coldness again. It wrapped itself around him painfully. He 
saw Haldir standing underneath the tree and remembered the limb that 
would forever seal his fate. Another clap of thunder… the sky’s laughter 
taunted the prince and he knew what he had to do. He ran toward Haldir 
with all of his might. He could taste the blood again, he could feel the cold 
overcoming him, and he could see Haldir’s broken body beneath the limb. 

Haldir froze when he saw Legolas running toward him like a madman. 

Even Elladan was shocked by the prince’ s actions.

Suddenly, an explosion sounded directly above Haldir. The marchwarden 
looked upward only to see a colossal tree branch tumbling toward him. He 
gasped and felt himself being knocked backwards only moments before 
the limb crashed to the ground.

Haldir sat up and stared at Legolas in shock.

Elladan ran over to Haldir and the prince. 

“Legolas, you… you saved my life,” Haldir said, wide-eyed.

“Legolas?” Elladan said, concerned. 

But the prince had lost consciousness.

--- 



Ch. 14: Some Truth in the Midst of Darkness


Legolas’ eyes fluttered open, but he soon wished he hadn’t regained 
consciousnesses. His head throbbed painfully and he clutched his 
forehead, believing it would split in two at any given moment. 

“Legolas?”

The prince squinted his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar 
bedchamber, surprised to see that Elladan and Haldir were sitting beside 
him. They were staring at him with expressions of concern imprinted on 
their faces. 

“Legolas… are you alright?” Elladan asked gently.

The prince tried to talk but heard a weak moan escape his lips. He opened 
his mouth again but his throat disobeyed him, refusing to allow him to 
speak. 

Elladan, seeming to understand, poured some water in a small chalice and 
moved closer to the prince’s bed. Carefully, he handed Legolas the glass.

Legolas sat up slowly and drank deeply from the cup, clearing his throat 
before trying to speak. “Wh… where am I?” the prince asked weakly.

“You are in the Lórien guesthouse in an unused bedchamber,” Haldir said. 

“Why?”

“Do you not remember what happened in the forest?” Elladan asked.

Legolas lay back against the soft pillows, closed his eyes and began to 
think about the events of the day. He remembered the way Elladan looked 
in the midst of battle, he remembered Elrohir’s loss to Haldir and then he 
remembered the sky’s thunderous laughter and its threat to kill Haldir.

Elladan watched the prince carefully, trying desperately to mask his 
growing concern. But as Legolas lay there on the bed with his eyes closed, 
seemingly deep in thought, pale-faced and weak, Elladan felt his façade 
beginning to break.

The prince opened his eyes slowly and met Elladan’s concerned gaze. “I 
remember…”

“You… you saved my life,” Haldir blurted out.

Legolas looked at Haldir and smiled faintly. “Aye.”

“Legolas, what happened in the forest?” Elladan asked. “How were you 
able to save Haldir?”

“I… I am not sure,” the prince responded honestly. “I… I saw it happen. 
In my mind’s eye, I saw the limb fall.”   

“You had a vision,” Elladan said without hesitation. 

“How can you be so sure?” Legolas asked.

“My grandmother has had many visions in the past and she has told me 
about them,” Elladan responded. “I have never seen her become 
incapacitated after one, though.”

The prince nodded, feeling himself becoming increasingly weaker. 

“How… how is this possible?” Elladan asked. “You never told me that 
you have more than one gift. I knew you could speak to animals… but I 
never knew about this.”

“Neither did I,” Legolas said, sighing. “I… I do not know what to make of 
it…” The prince’s voice trailed off and he gazed up at the ceiling. “My 
ability to communicate with animals… I have had the gift since I was very 
young. Over time… my ability became stronger. At first, I could only 
speak to small, forest creatures, like squirrels and rabbits. In time, I gained 
the power to speak to horses, bears and deer.”

“I… I do not understand,” Elladan said. “Do you believe your power is 
growing?”

“Nay,” the prince responded after a brief pause. “My power has remained 
the same for nearly five centuries. I guess I am just a bit confused as to 
why it would change now. I just need some time to try and figure out…”

“No you don’t,” Elladan said curtly, interrupting the prince. “It would 
seem that time is of the essence, Legolas. You must tell your father about 
this.”

“I cannot,” Legolas retorted stubbornly.

“Legolas,” Elladan said firmly, “I was not asking you.”

The prince stared at his lover in incredulity.

“Do not cast me that spiteful stare.”

The prince set his jaw and folded his arms across his chest angrily. 
Exhaling sharply, he shook his head in silent disagreement.

“Listen to me,” Elladan said gently, sitting beside the prince on the bed. 
“A bit earlier, I spoke with Haldir. He told me about the nightmare you 
had recently. Why did you not tell me about it?”

Legolas avoided Elladan’s eyes and looked at the bedcovers instead.

Elladan placed one of his hands on the prince’s thigh and caressed it 
absently. 

Haldir’s eyes widened but he remained silent.

“Legolas… I love you,” Elladan said. “All that is happening to you… it is 
greater than you or me. I fear for you.”
The prince looked up and met Elladan’s eyes.

“You know that the king and I are far from friends but you are his son. If 
anything were to happen to you without your father’s knowledge… I 
could never forgive myself. You must tell him.”

Legolas did not speak for a few moments. Instead, he held Elladan’s gaze. 
He admired the beauty of the Rivendell warrior’s mist colored eyes and 
sighed audibly when he saw the worry imprinted in them. “And what if 
my father sends me back to Mirkwood? He was quite angry about the mud 
fight and threatened to make us return home if we shamed him again.”

“I admit that I do not know how your father will react when you tell him 
about your dreams and the vision,” Elladan admitted. “But… no matter 
what happens, I will be by your side.”

Legolas smiled faintly and grasped one of Elladan’s hands. He raised his 
lover’s fingertips to his lips and kissed them gently.

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

Legolas and Elladan were so engrossed in their conversation they didn’t 
notice Haldir leave.

He crept out of the bedchamber and headed for the woods. His head was 
spinning with emotion and the cool, post-thunderstorm wind stung his 
eyes. He walked and walked until he had arrived back at the spot where he 
had been only a few hours before… the place where he had almost died. 
Haldir observed the large tree limb and felt a coldness come over him 
when he tried to imagine himself crushed beneath it. He rarely thought 
about death; it was such a foreign concept. But now, staring down at the 
large branch, he felt an indescribable anger well up in him. Before he 
could stop himself, he began to lash out at the limb. He tore the branches 
off and began to scream. He kicked the limb and struck it with his fists as 
hard as he could. He began to tear at the bark and ignored the fact that his 
hands were bleeding; he didn’t care about anything anymore. He fell to his 
knees in exhaustion and began to sob. He was now fully aware of the pain 
from his hands but it hardly compared to the anguish in his heart.

“Haldir?”

Haldir didn’t look up. He knew that the voice he heard belonged to 
Glorfindel. He knew that at his darkest moment, fate would mock him by 
allowing the one he loved most to see him this way.

“Haldir… what is wrong?”

“Nothing,” Haldir said, using the back of his bloody hand to wipe away 
his tears.
“Your… your hands,” Glorfindel said, concerned. He knelt beside the 
Lórien warrior. “They look as though they have been ripped to shreds.” 

Haldir pulled away from Glorfindel. “Do not concern yourself with me. 
Please, just leave me be.”

Glorfindel was taken aback by Haldir’s words, but didn’t leave. He could 
see that Haldir was in great despair and did not want to leave him alone. 
“Your hands are badly injured. Let me help you.”

“Nay,” Haldir said softly. “No one can help me.” 

Glorfindel furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“Because I am alone,” Haldir said, looking up at Glorfindel for the first 
time since the elder had entered the woods. “I almost died today. I saw my 
end. I suppose we are not so different now, for I too have faced darkness. 
But with or without this incident, one thing remains clear… I am only half 
alive… the other half dwells in shadow.” Haldir stood and walked away 
quickly, leaving behind a baffled Glorfindel as well as his favorite book, 
which fell out of a pocket in his tunic.

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

Thranduil had been more than a little surprised when one of Elrond’s 
servants brought an official summons to his private quarters. He wondered 
what could warrant such a formal request for his presence. Even though 
Elrond had rejected him, he still wanted to believe that they were friends. 
So it baffled him as to why Elrond hadn’t just come himself to ask him to 
meet him and Celeborn in the meeting hall. The king mulled over these 
thoughts as he made his way to Elrond’s manor. He entered the massive 
doorway and was surprised once again to come upon two formally clad 
elves that would serve as his escorts to the meeting hall.

The escorts led the king to the entranceway of the meeting hall, bowed and 
left Thranduil to face Lord Celeborn and Elrond alone.

He felt a bit uneasy as he entered the meeting hall but refused to show any 
apprehension as he walked into the large chamber. The room was sparse, 
possessing none of the warmth of other chambers in Elrond’s manor. The 
cream colored walls were bare; their only charm was the multitude of 
elaborately ornamented windows that were spaced neatly across the north, 
east and west walls. The southern wall, the one behind the king, was 
covered with bookcases that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and 
countless tomes seemed to weigh heavily on the delicate shelves. The 
floor was made of eggshell colored marble that shone as if it had just been 
polished. The king observed the remainder of the room and saw only 
dozens of chairs that had been spread out neatly. He realized that this must 
be an informal meeting hall, since there was no podium. He wondered 
what this meeting was all about and then wondered where Elrond and 
Celeborn were. Luckily, he did not have to wait long.

Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn entered the meeting chamber and bowed.

Thranduil responded by simply nodding his head, as it was improper for 
one of his stature to display a lesser posture to those below his station.

“We need to talk,” Elrond began stiffly.

“Alright…” Thranduil said, furrowing his brow. He realized that this 
chamber wasn’t the only thing in the room that was cold; he noticed the 
displeased looks he was getting from not only Elrond but Celeborn as 
well. *Could Celeborn have discovered how I feel about Elrond? After all, 
Elrond was married to his only daughter.*

“Would you like to sit?” Elrond asked.

“Nay,” Thranduil responded, trying to understand the expression on 
Elrond’s face.

“Very well,” Elrond said, nodding. “Would you like some refreshment? I 
could have one of the servants…”

“I would like to know why I have been called here,” Thranduil said, 
interrupting the lord. “I mean no disrespect, but this seems very serious. 
The manner in which you have called me here suggests that a problem is 
afoot. Please, do not make me wait any longer. What has happened?”

Elrond and Celeborn exchanged tepid expressions before Elrond spoke. 
“Very well then.” The lord of Rivendell inhaled sharply and met the 
king’s eyes. “Word has reached our ear about a scandal that occurred 
recently…”

“A scandal?” Thranduil asked, curious.

“Aye,” Elrond said. “A scandal involving you…” The lord’s voice broke 
off abruptly. He was trying desperately to hide the anger, sadness and 
feelings of betrayal that he felt.

“Me?” Thranduil said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. The 
king sighed with relief and sat down in a nearby chair. “Your sense of 
humor could use some polish, Elrond. I feared the worse when you 
formally summoned me here. Now I see that this whole charade was a 
jest.”

“Oh, I see,” Celeborn said icily. “You believe that the pubic defamation of 
my granddaughter’s name is humorous.”

“What?” Thranduil asked, taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about you and Arwen… alone in the woods… for hours 
upon hours! I am talking about you plucking each one of her precious and 
untainted flowers during the time you spent with her. You preyed upon an 
innocent female. How could she resist the likes of you? I have seen the 
way females and males throw themselves at your feet. And I am sure that 
many of them have found your bed. But why… why would you choose to 
desecrate the virgin princess of this realm? You may be a king… and you 
may be the fairest elf in all of Middle-earth, but as far as I am concerned, 
the title of king is only that… a title. You have none of the good breeding 
or character that typically goes along with such a lofty designation. And 
while I suppose every king needs something to ride in the darkest hours of 
the night… I would suggest a fine steed as opposed to an impressionable 
child!”

Thranduil rose from his seat. His mouth was partially open and his eyes 
wide. He could not believe what he was hearing. To him, the idea of 
courting Arwen seemed so ridiculous. He couldn’t believe that Elrond and 
Celeborn actually believed these rumors. He had never been so insulted in 
his entire life. He searched for words to convey his outrage, but none 
came. He felt more empty and alone than ever. He looked at Elrond’s face 
but saw that the lord of Rivendell believed this idiocy to be true. It was 
more than he could bear… to be rejected by the one he loved most in the 
world and then to be accused of deflowering his daughter. He knew the 
reason for the stares and whispers at the competition surrounded this 
falsehood, but he was surprised that they would choose to attack him 
rather than ask Arwen about this first. “I… have you spoken to Arwen 
about this?” Thranduil asked, trying to sound calm.

“She has been through enough,” Elrond said. “She has already been 
questioned by her brothers. There is no need for us to continue to bring 
shame upon her.”

“Perhaps you should have spoken to her before you sought me out,” 
Thranduil said. 

“And why is that?” Celeborn hissed. “So she could lie to us to conceal 
your transgressions?”

“Nay,” Thranduil replied, “so she could tell you that nothing happened 
between us in the forest. We simply talked… nothing more.”

“That is not what she told Elladan and Elrohir.”

“Are you certain? How do you know what was said if you did not speak to 
her yourself?”

“Are you questioning the integrity of my grandsons?” Celeborn asked 
angrily.

“Nay,” the king responded. “I am simply suggesting that you gather all of 
the facts before you make such a salacious accusation.”

“We will not bother poor Arwen with this,” Celeborn said, coolly.

“Bother Arwen with what?” Arwen asked as she entered the meeting hall.

Thranduil stared at Elrond and Celeborn in frustration, awaiting their 
response.

“Nothing,” Celeborn remarked quickly.

Arwen looked from her grandfather to her father and then looked at 
Thranduil. She could feel the tension in the air and wondered what she had 
done to cause strife between those in her family and her newfound friend. 
“That is an untruth, Grandfather. It is clear to me that something has 
happened. If it has something to do with me, I would like to know.”

“A lady of the court should not be subjected to a conversation of this sort,” 
Celeborn explained gently. “All you need to know is that everything is 
being taken care of.”

“With all due respect, Grandfather, I am not a child. I am fully grown and 
want to know why you are discussing me with the king. If something is 
amiss then I want to know.”

“Very well,” Elrond said before Celeborn could protest. “Your grandfather 
and I have become aware of your… your… relationship with King 
Thranduil. We called him here to contest it out of concern for you.”

“What?” Arwen asked in shock.

“There, there, Arwen,” Celeborn said gently, grasping one of the maiden’s 
hands in his own and squeezing affectionately. “I know how embarrassing 
this must be for you, but do not fret. Your honor will be restored.”

“My honor?” Arwen asked in dismay. “What do you mean? There is no 
shame in my relationship with the king.”

Celeborn dropped Arwen’s hand and stared at her in shock. “What… what 
are you saying? Certainly you have not forgotten who you are… and that 
such actions would disgrace a female of your station.”

Arwen furrowed her brow in confusion. “Are you questioning where our 
relationship was formed? Is the forest an improper place to…”

“Arwen, I beg of you not to finish your sentence,” Celeborn said abruptly.

“Why?” Arwen asked, dumfounded. “Why are you and Father behaving so 
strangely?”

“Because they believe that we were intimate,” Thranduil said. “Elrond and 
Celeborn think that we are lovers.”

Arwen’s mouth fell open for a moment and then she smiled. “You cannot 
be serious,” she commented. 
Elrond and Celeborn exchanged looks once again, this time, of course they 
were ones of extreme nervousness. They both hoped that they hadn’t 
jumped to any false conclusions about the nature of Arwen and 
Thranduil’s relationship.

“You **are** serious!” Arwen exclaimed in shock. “I cannot believe this! 
This is an outrage!”

“Arwen, please be calm,” Elrond said gently.

“Nay! Nay, I will not be calm!” Arwen placed her hands on her hips 
angrily and stomped her foot. “How… why would you assume such a 
thing?”

“We did not assume,” Celeborn said. “Everyone in all three realms was 
talking about your tryst in the woods with the king. I chose to ignore it 
until Elladan and Elrohir confirmed the rumors.”

“They did what?” Arwen shrieked, enraged.

“They said that you said…” Elrond began.

“I **never** said that King Thranduil and I were intimate. I told Elladan 
and Elrohir that my personal life was none of their concern. They said that 
a relationship between the king and me was revolting. I did not deny or 
confirm anything.”

“But you struck Elladan,” Elrond feebly protested.

“I should not have done that,” Arwen admitted, “but he was being 
insensitive and my patience could tolerate no more. I can see now that that 
two of you are no better than he.”

“Arwen,” Celeborn said slowly, “am I to understand that you and 
Thranduil did not have an affair in the forest. The relationship of which 
you speak is based on friendship?”

“Aye,” Arwen said flatly. “King Thranduil and I talked for hours. I poured 
the contents of my heart out to him and he did not judge me. He only 
listened attentively and behaved like a perfect gentleman. He even walked 
in front of me on our way back from the forest, making sure to clear away 
any underbrush or thistles that may bar my path. He even tore his lovely 
tunic on a briar bush that he tried to shield me from… and this is his 
thanks?”

Celeborn and Elrond exchanged mortified looks and stared at the king in 
shame.

“King Thranduil… I…” Celeborn began hesitantly.

“Please… don’t speak,” Thranduil said, slowly. “I can see now what you 
both think of me…”

“Thranduil…” Elrond began, his face red with remorse. “If you will only 
allow me to explain…”

“Explain what?” the king asked, staring into Elrond’s eyes. “How could 
you ever think I would do that to you?” His words sounded like those of a 
former lover and Elrond shifted a bit nervously in the presence of his 
father-in-law. Thranduil, being exceptionally astute, noticed the lovesick 
tone of his words. Thus he rephrased his comment in the hope of 
concealing its meaning from Celeborn. “We have had our problems, 
Elrond, but you should know that I hold my honor and the honor of others 
above all else.”

“I… I… I know,” Elrond said, defeated. 

Thranduil sighed and walked toward the door. Prior to exiting, he looked 
back and smiled faintly. “Thank you for tending to my hand the other day, 
Elrond. It has healed completely… it has completely healed.” The king 
turned and left the chamber.

Elrond felt his heart sink, as he understood the underlying meaning of the 
king’s words. Thranduil no longer loved him.

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

Darkness laid its veil upon the Rivendell sky. Thranduil observed it 
pensively and tried to push all the unpleasant thoughts of the day from his 
mind. He hadn’t returned to his bedchamber after he left the place he now 
deemed ‘the inquisition room’ and had gone for a long walk. Thranduil 
often found comfort in natural surroundings and discovered that the 
warmth of the sun on his face or the cool breeze of the night could often 
quell the most disquieting emotions. He walked and walked and soon 
found himself standing in front of the Rivendell’s enormous stable. He 
entered, bowed at a few excited-looking elves, who rushed out of the 
stable as soon as he passed them, and stood before his stallion. He stroked 
the horse’s mane gently, but became distracted when he felt someone 
approaching.

“King Thranduil?”

“Aye,” Thranduil replied and turned around. There, kneeling in the 
servants position on the ground, was Lord Celeborn. 

“Wh… what are you doing?” Thranduil asked, dismayed.

“Begging for your forgiveness, Sire,” Celeborn responded without looking 
up.

Thranduil turned away for a moment and sighed. He faced the lord and 
spoke. “Arise, Lord Celeborn.”

Celeborn stood but behaved very humbly toward the king. “I… I owe you 
my most heartfelt apology, Sire. I feel that you deserve an explanation.”
“The only explanation I want is how you knew where to find me.”

“After you left the meeting hall I went to look for you. You did not return 
to your quarters so I sent word to every servant in the realm to fetch me 
and tell me where I could find you.”

Thranduil remembered when the stable servants left so abruptly and now 
understood why.

“My behavior today was horrid… and inexcusable.”

“You are right,” Thranduil remarked simply.

“Please allow me to explain.”

“There is nothing to explain. I am nothing more than a mere whoring 
scoundrel who will stop at nothing short of stealing young, noble, virgin 
females and robbing them of their innocence. But your diatribe taught me 
a valuable lesson. If you will look around, you will see that we are in the 
stable. I decided to take your advice and mount a lively steed… instead of 
virtuous maidens, that is.”

“I deserved that,” Celeborn admitted. “But… there was a reason for our 
hasty reaction.”

“I know. Your opinion of me is quite low,” Thranduil said flatly. “You 
believe that I am fair of face and that I have as much depth as a drop of 
rain.”

“Nay,” Celeborn said. “We reacted… overreacted because of all that was 
being said was about Arwen.”

Thranduil raised an unsympathetic eyebrow.

Celeborn sighed and a saddened expression clouded his face. “Have you 
heard of my daughter, Celebrían?”

“Aye,” Thranduil responded.

“And you know what happened to her?”

“Aye,” Thranduil said, feeling his anger lessen.

“Celebrían was my only child… my daughter. We were very close. And 
although I love all of my grandchildren equally, there was something 
special when Arwen was born. She is my only granddaughter. Before 
Celebrían left, she made me promise to watch over Arwen. She knew that 
Elrond would be overwhelmed with responsibility since he would be 
ruling alone. So, I have become overly protective of her. She looks so 
much like her mother… save he dark hair… I just didn’t want to fail her 
the way I failed Celebrían.”
“In what way did you fail her?” Thranduil asked. “If Arwen is any 
indication, you love your daughter a great deal.”

“Aye, but I am responsible for the ill that befell her. Celebrían was on her 
way to see me and her mother when she and her assemblage were attacked 
by orcs.”

“What happened to your daughter was not your fault,” Thranduil said 
sincerely.

“Maybe not… but it **would** be my fault if something happened to 
Arwen. Protecting her was the last promise I made to my daughter.”

Thranduil nodded slowly.

“I apologize for the way I spoke to you… and for the way I treated you. I 
had no right to behave so unbecomingly. I’m not trying to win back your 
friendship, your respect or your sympathy. I just wanted you to understand 
why I behaved the way I did.” Celeborn bowed deeply. “I will not take up 
any more of your time. Thank-you for listening.” Celeborn resumed a 
standing position and turned to leave.

Thranduil was torn. He felt quite justified for being angry and wanted to 
hold this grudge close to his heart. On the other hand, he had told Elrond 
that he had changed since the days he banished the Lord of Rivendell from 
his realm. And now would be a good time to prove that this was true. Not 
to mention the fact that he could understand Celeborn’s reaction. From his 
encounter with the maiden, he had learned to like her. Arwen was kind, 
intelligent and very innocent. He would have reacted in the same way--
perhaps even worse, if he had heard that a noble he did not know very well 
had lured her to his bedchamber. “Celeborn.”

The Lord of Lórien turned to face the king.

“Though your actions were hasty… your heart was not displaced in your 
love and protection of your granddaughter. Your apology has been 
accepted.”

Celeborn sighed with relief. 

“There is a price to be paid, however,” the king added. “Since you have 
such a way with the servants obeying your commands, I would like you to 
do something for me. I want to know who started the rumor about Arwen 
and me.  Through the servants, I would like you to obtain this information 
as I would like to have a diatribe of my own with the guilty party.”

“Arwen is so angry with her father and me, she has refused to speak to 
us… is this not a great enough price?” Celeborn asked.

“Ah, Celeborn, you cannot negotiate with me,” Thranduil said, grinning. 
“Have you forgotten that I am the Whore King from Mirkwood? I can 
persuade the purest of females as well as the basest elves in all three 
realms into my bed. With all of my skill, what chance do you have?”

Celeborn smiled.

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

After Celeborn left, Thranduil decided to go on a lengthy ride through the 
realm. Hours later, when he returned to his bedchamber, the moon was 
high in the sky.

The king was not in the least bit tired but decided to return to his 
bedchamber anyway. He climbed the stairs that led to his quarters and 
immediately sensed that someone was waiting for him. He walked through 
the doorway and stopped when he saw Elrond perched on the large settee 
that was in the sitting area of the large chamber.

Elrond stood and bowed politely.

Thranduil exhaled in annoyance and did not bow in return. Instead, he 
brushed past the lord and poured himself a goblet of mead. He almost 
offered some to Elrond but decided that he was too cross to be polite.

Elrond realized immediately that making amends with Thranduil would be 
difficult. “I spoke with Celeborn…”

“So?” the king said flatly. He picked up a book that he had placed on the 
small table that was sitting in front of the settee. He sat down in a 
comfortable armchair and began to leaf through the pages.

“So… Celeborn said that the two of you had a good discussion and that 
you accepted his apology.”

“And?” 

“And… I was wondering if the two of us could have a similar 
conversation,” Elrond said, trying not to sound too anxious.

Thranduil put the book down and stared at Elrond for a long time. He 
cursed inwardly when he felt his heart begin to race at the site of the lord. 
Elrond looked more handsome than ever to the king. Perhaps it was the 
way the candlelight danced against his perfect face, or the way his 
leggings clung to his muscular thighs. Thranduil couldn’t believe he could 
be so incredibly full of anger and lust at the same time.  

Elrond wasn’t sure what Thranduil was thinking but he wanted nothing 
more than to beg for his forgiveness. He knew he had hurt Thranduil with 
his rejection and now offered him a fresh blow with a false accusation. He 
wished he could pull the king into his arms and feel Thranduil’s lips on his 
again. He longed to be close to the king--to tell him how he really felt… 
but he couldn’t… he just couldn’t.

“So, you want me to forgive and forget?” Thranduil asked, trying to hide 
the huskiness in his voice.

“Well… you forgave Celeborn,” Elrond said in a joking tone.

“It was difficult to forgive him,” Thranduil said, “and I do not think I will 
ever forget his words. But excusing his behavior is a bit easier for me 
when I take into account the fact that Celeborn hardly knows me. He has 
no reason not to believe what others would say about me. You, on the 
other hand, should know better.”

“But I have only just begun to know you again,” Elrond protested. “Do not 
forget that we did not speak for many years.”

“That is true,” Thranduil said. “But after I told you how I feel about 
you…” the king paused for a few moments before continuing, “how could 
you think I would do that to you… with Arwen, nonetheless?”

“I… I do not know. I suppose I wasn’t thinking.” Elrond hesitated but 
decided to be honest with the king. “Actually, I thought that you may have 
seduced Arwen to punish me for… for rejecting you.”

“I can see now why you do not want to be with me,” Thranduil said icily. 
“Your opinion of me is so low that I am certain a snake is higher off of the 
ground than I.”

“Thranduil…” Elrond said gently.

“When I professed my feelings to you, it was not simply an invitation to 
my bed… it was an invitation into my life.”

Elrond’s heart begged him to speak--to tell Thranduil the truth about his 
innermost feelings. But the lord’s head was stubborn. Elrond held his 
tongue and simply stared at the king.

“I am not ready to forgive you,” Thranduil said. “You are not required to 
return my feelings. But I thought we were friends, Elrond. You do not 
trust me… that is clear. And now, how can I trust you?”

“I… I do not know,” Elrond said softly. 

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

Legolas had been so weakened by his vision that he slept in the Lórien 
bedchamber through the afternoon and well into the evening. When he 
awakened, he found a slumbering Elladan sitting in a chair by his side. 
Knowing that rousing his lover would only lead to another lecture, the 
young prince of Mirkwood decided to slip out of the room and go for a 
walk. 

The prince exited the Lórien guesthouse and observed the night sky. The 
sky wore its evening garments, a cobalt blue tunic, adorned with 
diamonds. He inhaled the crisp air and sighed. He wanted to go someplace 
where he could be alone. Then, it dawned on him--he would go to the hill 
that stood high above the rest of the realm. He hadn’t been there in quite 
some time and decided that returning there would be nice.

The prince began to walk quickly in the direction of the hill. Then he 
began to run. He didn’t know why, but there was something so freeing 
about running—about the way the air caressed his face and the way his 
hair danced wildly in the wind. 

In no time, the prince had reached his mark; he was on top of the hill. He 
walked to the edge of a large cliff and looked out over the rim at much of 
the realm. Rivendell was so beautiful. Overlooking the kingdom, 
everything seemed brighter, clearer and louder somehow.

The prince turned around and observed his surroundings. He remembered 
the times that he and Elladan had spent in this place when he was ill. 
*Perhaps that is why I should spend some time here once again,* the 
prince thought to himself sadly. Legolas sat under the enormous tree 
where he and Elladan had made love so many months ago. He never 
thought that he would want to go back to that time in his life, but in light 
of everything that was going on in his heart, he longed for a simpler time. 
He just wanted to be alone. He wanted to think and wished he could form 
some sort of barrier of protection around him to keep intruders away. 

Suddenly, Legolas heard a noise in the wooded forest area to his right. 
Someone or something was approaching. Then he heard another noise 
coming from his left. He could feel the presence of several large animals. 
Legolas scrambled to his feet. At once, the prince realized that he was 
unarmed. His only weapon would be his gift. He would communicate with 
whatever was coming. He only hoped that his strange nightmares had not 
damaged his ability to communicate with animals.

Legolas watched wide-eyed when he saw a large wolf step out of the 
woods and into the clearing. It walked toward him slowly.

*You summoned us?* The wolf asked in the prince’s mind.

*Us?* Legolas asked.

Before the prince could question further a host of wolves entered the 
clearing. 

Legolas was quite surprised to be faced with more than a dozen large 
wolves but did not fear them. *I did not summon you,* the prince said.
*But you did,* the largest wolf said. *You asked for a barrier of 
protection… so we came to answer your call.*

Legolas was confused. He wondered how these wolves could have heard 
what he was thinking. Normally, he had to purposefully speak to animals 
in order for them to hear him.

*My name is Zev,* the largest wolf said politely. *Your request will be 
honored this night by the wolf clan of Faolan. Should times become hard, 
remember us, oh Ancient One.*

*Ancient one?* Legolas thought to himself, confused.

Zev barked some commands and the other wolves positioned themselves, 
one in front of the other, until they formed a large circle around the prince 
and the tree. The animals did not sit until Legolas sat down again.

The prince found the presence of the wolves to be quite comforting, even 
though he didn’t know why they were there. In time, he forgot about the 
wolves and again began to think about his dreams and visions and 
wondered how he was going to explain them to his father--even worse was 
what he would have to tell Elladan.

Suddenly, Zev’s head arose, his ears were sticking straight up. The other 
wolves stood, as did Zev, and looked toward one particular spot in the 
woods.

Legolas sensed it, too. Someone was approaching. 

The wolves tightened their perimeter around the prince, while Zev moved 
forward, seemingly ready to pounce on anyone who dared come too close. 

Elladan reached the top of the hill and froze when he saw a large wolf 
growling at him. He had sensed the animal but had not expected it to be 
poised to kill him.

Zev began to growl and bear his teeth, and the other wolves followed suit. 
Zev jumped toward Elladan suddenly, but Elladan countered the attack. 
He picked up a large branch off of the ground and pointed it at the wolf.

“No!” Legolas shouted. *Zev, stop this attack at once. That elf… he is a 
friend.*

*As you wish, Ancient One.* Zev and the other wolves stopped growling 
at once. Zev returned to the prince’s side. *Please forgive our hasty 
reaction,* Zev said apologetically. *We were only trying to serve you.*

*I am not angry,* the prince said sincerely. *You have… served me well 
this evening. Thank you for your assistance. You may leave me now. I 
wish to speak to my friend alone.*
*As you wish,* Zev said. He barked a command and disappeared into the 
woods with his clan. 

“What was that?” Elladan asked, approaching the prince.

“I am not sure,” Legolas said. “I was thinking to myself… wishing that I 
could be alone and had a barrier around me to keep everyone at bay. 
Suddenly, I was surrounded by nearly twenty wolves who claimed that I 
summoned them. The most odd part was that the leader of that wolf clan 
kept calling me ‘Ancient One.’

“A wolf clan?” Elladan asked. “I thought a group of wolves was called a 
pack.”

“That is what we call them. Wolves refer to themselves as a clan. They 
have a leader and everything,” Legolas explained.

“When I awakened, you had gone,” Elladan said, suddenly changing the 
subject. He was unable to hide the hurt in his voice.

“Oh…” Legolas said, feeling guilty.

“Legolas, I looked everywhere for you,” Elladan said. “I was very 
concerned… I didn’t know if you had another vision and lost 
consciousness somewhere.”

“Nay,” Legolas said. “I just wanted to be alone… to think.”

Elladan sighed audibly and dropped the limb that he had been holding. 
“Do you want me to leave?”

“Nay,” the prince responded. 

“Legolas, I think you should speak to your father about your dreams… 
and the vision tomorrow morning,” Elladan began slowly.

“Oh, Elladan,” Legolas said in exasperation. “I am not ready to tell him 
yet. I will speak to my father about it after the archery competition.”

“Legolas, why must you be so willful about this?” Elladan asked, 
annoyed. “You cannot hide this from your family forever. You must tell 
your father.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then I will tell him,” Elladan said flatly.

“Go ahead! I care not. Your version of recent events will only be partially 
true,” the prince spat.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there is more to this than you know,” Legolas said. “This is 
not as simple as you think. But since you are so anxious to tell someone 
about this, then go ahead. Tell my father!”

“Why are you being so stubborn, Legolas?” 

“Because I am dying,” Legolas said, slumping against the tree in 
exhaustion.

--- 


Ch. 15: Fallen Warrior


“Legolas? What are you saying?” Elladan asked, concerned. He rushed to 
the prince’s side and helped him to sit down.

“Why do you think I have been so resistant about telling my father about 
my dreams?” Legolas asked weakly. “Did it not occur to you that there 
might be more to what was happening to me? Did it ever occur to you 
that… that I may not want to tell you…” the prince’s voice trailed off 
suddenly.
“Legolas… I had no idea…” Elladan said, holding him in his arms. “But 
you are not dying. What would ever make you think of such a thing?” He 
tried to sound positive, but he couldn’t ignore the knot that had formed in 
his stomach.

Legolas pulled away from Elladan and stood up. He leaned against the tree 
for support and looked down at Elladan. “When I came to Rivendell for 
the first time, I was very ill. After my mother died… my heart was in 
ruins. I did not think I would survive… neither did my father. That is why 
he sent me here in the first place, so I could heal. Have you forgotten 
about the dreams I had then? Do you not remember that I almost killed 
you after a particularly vicious nightmare?”

“That wasn’t you,” Elladan said, grinning. “If you remember, it was the 
fell beast, Orcwen, who attacked me that night. Look, she is back to her 
ill-fated ways again.” Elladan pointed to the welt on his face from where 
Arwen had struck him earlier.

Legolas did not laugh. He forced a faint smile and looked into the 
distance. 

Elladan rose to his feet. He brushed a stray lock of hair from the prince’s 
brow. 

“This time is not like the last time,” Legolas said softly. “It is worse… 
much worse. My dreams do not make sense. They are violent and 
frightening. And the marks they leave behind… they are the marks of 
death. I never really healed before, did I? My love for you only concealed 
the truth… it masked the disease. I did not want to tell my father… or 
you… for fear that speaking the words aloud would make death come on 
swifter wings.”

“Legolas, you are a warrior. You never accepted defeat in life and you will 
not do so in death. And you will not be alone. Please, speak to your father 
about this tomorrow morn. Then, tell my father. They will help you. You 
shall not endure this without help.” Elladan moved behind the prince and 
wrapped his arms around Legolas’ waist, holding him tight. “Do you trust 
me?”

“Aye,” Legolas said softly.

“Then we shall speak to both of our fathers tomorrow morn.”

Legolas nodded and leaned closer into his lover’s embrace.

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

Elladan did not sleep. He simply held Legolas in his arms and prayed for 
the light of day. He had to believe that the prince could be saved, and he 
knew that if anyone was capable of healing Legolas, it was his father.

When the first rays of light peaked over the mountains in the distance, 
Elladan felt relieved. He knew the prince was in for a difficult day, but he 
also believed that telling the king was for the best. He waited until the sun 
crested over the mountain before rousing the prince.

Legolas stirred and Elladan couldn’t help but smile. The prince’s pouty 
expression made him look not a day over the age of one hundred.

“Legolas… Legolas, it is morning,” Elladan said gently.

The prince rubbed his eyes and sat up. He looked at Elladan and smiled. 
“Good morning, my Elladan.”

“Good morn, Greenleaf.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did not sleep at all,” Elladan said.

Legolas looked at his lover, concerned. “Why not?”

“I’m afraid my concern for you disallowed me to rest. But we will both 
get some much needed answers today.”

“Ah, yes,” the prince murmured, “I had almost forgotten…”

“I am sorry,” Elladan said sincerely. “I just need to know what is 
happening to you and how it can be stopped.”

“I am not certain that it will be as simple as you think,” Legolas said. “But 
the time has come for me to speak to my father… even though I still do 
not want to.”

“Stubborn to the end, eh, Prince?” Elladan asked in a teasing tone.

Legolas chuckled and pulled Elladan into his arms. “Thank you for being 
with me through all of this. I admit… I have been quite…”

“Quite?”

“Scared,” Legolas said after some hesitation. “That is weak of me, isn’t 
it?”

“Nay,” Elladan said. “I know you well, and I am certain that you have 
rarely used that word. Besides, anyone who can face the likes of Orcwen 
and live to tell the tale…”

Legolas laughed. “I love you, Elladan.”

Elladan smiled and nuzzled Legolas’ nose with his own. “I love you, my 
Greenleaf.” He helped the prince to stand and embraced him. Their lips 
met in a slow tender kiss that lingered on and on. Their mouths would part 
and then join again as though kissing was the basis for their survival.

Little did they know, they were being watched.

Glorfindel, who had gone for an early morning walk was stunned when he 
encountered the young lovers. He felt like an intruder, witnessing this 
private moment between Elladan and Legolas. However, the way they 
kissed and how much they loved each other made the elder curious about 
their relationship. Thus, he watched them quite blatantly.

The young lovers pulled away from one another at long last. Legolas 
allowed his knuckles to slide down Elladan’s face in a gentle caress.

Elladan responded by turning his head slightly and kissing the prince’s 
hand tenderly. He grasped Legolas’ hand and held it for a few moments as 
the two lovers gazed into one another’s eyes.

Glorfindel was rooted to the spot. He was surprised that Elladan could be 
affectionate. The Elladan he knew was humorous at times, but more often 
than not a simpleton. But he saw a different side of Elrond’s eldest twin 
here in the woods and realized that Elladan was truly in love with the 
young prince of Mirkwood.

Although the lovers did not sense him, he was very aware of his own 
surroundings and saw a golden haired elf, in the distance, heading in their 
direction; it was Haldir. He had sensed the animosity between Haldir and 
Elladan in the past and knew that a confrontation could be quite ugly, 
especially if Haldir was as forlorn this day as he had been the previous 
day. Without hesitation, he quietly pulled himself away from the 
embracing lovers and struck out to intercept the Lórien marchwarden. 

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

“Good morning, Haldir.”

“Ai!” Haldir shrieked, looking around wildly. “Glorfindel,” he said, 
panting and shaking his head. “You nearly frightened me to death. My 
heart is pounding so fiercely that I fear it will explode out of my chest.”

“I apologize,” Glorfindel said sincerely. “I did not mean to startle you. 
I…” Glorfindel tried to think of something to say that would prevent 
Haldir from journeying further up the hillside. “I… wanted to invite you to 
my home. There is something I want to show you.” 

Haldir stared at Glorfindel in disbelief. “You… want… me… to come… 
to… your… home?”

“Yes… I… do,” Glorfindel said lightheartedly.
Haldir chuckled and smiled brightly. “I would love to.”

“It is very nearby, follow me.”

Haldir floated behind Glorfindel. He couldn’t believe he was going to 
Glorfindel’s house. He always assumed that Glorfindel lived in the manor, 
but it suddenly occurred to him that Glorfindel probably only had a room 
in Elrond’s manor. An elf as old and wise as Glorfindel would want a 
place of his own.

Haldir had no idea why Glorfindel had invited him to his home and 
wondered if the sudden invitation had to do with their encounter in the 
woods the previous day. He felt a bit embarrassed by his behavior but 
decided to push any unpleasant thoughts out of his mind.

He was pleasantly surprised when Glorfindel approached a small 
residence that was nestled against the mountainside. It was beautiful. Lush 
foliage surrounded the house protectively, making the spot very private. 
Flowers of every kind littered the small yard and large, stunning trees 
beckoned the unsuspecting guest. 

Glorfindel opened the front door and politely ushered the marchwarden 
inside. 

Haldir stepped into what could only be called a modest cottage and was 
surprised by its cozy surroundings. The multi-room home had a large 
fireplace, dozens of windows, which were ornamented with delicate, 
cream-colored scarves. The floor was wooden and mirrored the deep oak 
colored furniture. Glorfindel’s home was anything but sparse. Instead, it 
was comfortable and inviting. Haldir found himself mesmerized by its 
humble beauty and realized that Glorfindel’s home mirrored him perfectly. 
It shied away from glory but harnessed a silent splendor that few took the 
time to notice. Haldir inhaled deeply and felt his heart swell in his chest. 
Glorfindel’s home even smelled good. He couldn’t help but wonder if its 
mild earthy smell came from the various plants that littered the house or if 
the smell emanated from Glorfindel himself.

Glorfindel cleared his throat and shifted a bit uneasily. He wasn’t used to 
having strangers in his home and suddenly felt uncomfortable with 
Haldir’s apparent scrutiny.

Haldir smiled. “Your home is lovely. It is even better that I imagined it.”

Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, at the idea that Haldir had imagined his 
house before and wondered briefly at what else the young elf had 
imagined about him.

Haldir’s face reddened and he looked around the room in embarrassment.

On cue, Glorfindel changed the subject. “Well, as I said earlier, I would 
like to show you something.”

“Yes…” Haldir said abruptly, the shade of his face deepening. 
“Come with me,” Glorfindel said, pretending not to notice Haldir’s 
lingering shame.
Haldir followed Glorfindel through the living room and into a larger 
chamber that was adjacent to it. The young marchwarden gasped audibly 
when he beheld the countless tomes that had seemingly been so carefully 
placed on countless bookshelves that lined the perimeter of the entire 
room. A large wooden table sat in the center of the room, flanked by 
comfortable looking chairs on each side. A few open books were on the 
table and Haldir couldn’t resist the urge to see what the elder had been 
reading. He picked the book up and smiled when he read its title, “The 
Wayward Ones.” 

“It is quite good,” Glorfindel said, interrupting Haldir’s thoughts. “I have 
yet to finish it, but plan to within the next week or so.”

“You will love the ending,” Haldir said, placing the book back on the 
table.

“You have read it?” Glorfindel asked, mildly surprised.

“Aye,” Haldir said, nodding. “I love to read. Methinks my head is 
probably full of too much nonsense from reading, but I find such a 
freedom in the pages of a good tome. I can escape and become Dunbar in 
“The Wayward Ones” and fight pirates and creatures of shadow with no 
fear. I can do anything… be anything… I am not alone when I read.”

Glorfindel wasn’t sure if it was the lighting in the room or Haldir’s 
passion for reading that charmed him so, but he had never noticed how 
handsome Haldir really was. He stared at the young warrior’s sturdy 
looking form—his taut thighs, muscular arms and masculine face. He 
looked down again and found his eyes lingering on Haldir’s bandaged 
hands. He wondered what had distressed the young marchwarden the day 
before, but decided that it was none of his concern. He raised his head and 
met the young warrior’s eyes, and for a moment his heart caught in his 
chest. *What is wrong with me?*

Haldir’s face reddened again and he shook his head. He had mistaken 
Glorfindel’s probing look and the long silence between them for 
disapproval. “I… I… am sorry, Glorfindel. You have invited me into your 
home to show me something and I prattle on and on about foolishness. 
Please… do not hold my tongue against me, for I know not what I say 
when you are near.” Haldir almost choked on those last words and shook 
his head in dismay as soon as he had uttered them. He was certain that 
Glorfindel would ask him to leave.

Glorfindel smiled sincerely. “Do not fret, Haldir. All is well. I suppose I 
am a bit amazed to meet someone who loves books as much… if not more 
than I.”

Haldir felt his concern vanish as he sighed with relief.

Glorfindel walked over to one of his bookshelves and grasped a large 
book. Cradling it in his hands for a moment, he handed it to Haldir.

Haldir read the title and smiled brightly. It was his favorite book titled, 
“Adventure of an Elvish Rogue.”

“You have read it,” Glorfindel said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes,” Haldir said. “I have read it so many times, in fact, that the title has 
worn off my copy.”

Glorfindel smiled. “I know, you dropped this in the forest yesterday.” He 
handed Haldir the book that had fallen from his robes the day before.

Haldir took his book from Glorfindel. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

“It was a gift… from my father,” Haldir said, caressing the cover of the 
book. “It was the greatest gift I have ever gotten.”

Glorfindel nodded and smiled once again. 

Haldir placed the book in a pocket in his tunic and turned his attention to 
the copy Glorfindel had given to him.

“Open it.”

Haldir stared at the elder for a moment and opened the book. On the first 
page was a beautiful illustration of the main character, Llew, and his trusty 
stallion. Mesmerized, Haldir turned to the next page and found another 
illustration as well as the text on the opposite page. “It… it is beautiful.”

“Aye,” Glorfindel said. “I acquired it many years ago from the very elf 
who wrote it.”

“You knew Samlar Leaflin?” Haldir asked amazed.

“Aye,” Glorfindel responded.

Haldir stared at the book for a long time and then placed it back on the 
table.

“You may borrow it if you’d like,” Glorfindel said.

“Nay,” Haldir said. “I would no sooner borrow Lord Celeborn’s sword 
than to take such a precious item from this house.” 

“Well, then… perhaps we can look at it together,” Glorfindel heard 
himself saying.

Haldir smiled shyly and nodded. “I would like that.”
Glorfindel beckoned Haldir back into the living room and encouraged him 
to sit.

Haldir made himself comfortable on a large moss colored armchair and 
began pouring through the book. He didn’t realize that Glorfindel had left 
the room until he returned with a flask of spiced cider and two chalices.

Haldir accepted the drink and pointed to a particular picture in the book. 
“This is my favorite part,” he said grinning. “I was so inspired by Llew’s 
attempt to learn the ancient art of the Mock-Na that I begged my father to 
teach me. Not only did I learn the Mock-Na but I also learned Karthal.”

Glorfindel stared at Haldir, momentarily speechless. “You… you know 
the Mock-Na and the Karthal?”

“Aye.”

“But those are very ancient fighting techniques. Who did you say taught 
you?”

“My father. He was a Mock-Na master. My mother taught me Karthal. 
She actually learned the technique from Thalion himself.”

Glorfindel’s eyes widened. “The last Mock-Na master I knew was Cirian 
of Lórien. Was… was Cirian your father?”

“Aye,” Haldir said.

“And your mother was Nurielle?”

“Aye,” Haldir said, taken aback by the awestruck expression on the elder’s 
face. “Did you know my parents?”

“Aye. I fought beside them in a great battle, many years ago. They were 
excellent warriors, possessing integrity and character that is rarely seen 
these days.”

Haldir smiled. “They were wonderful parents. I learned all I could from 
them before the end…”

“They would be proud of you,” Glorfindel said. “You have honored them 
with your rank and poise. After all, anyone who can resist killing Elladan 
on daily basis must possess a deep, inner strength.”

Haldir laughed, as did Glorfindel, which slowly collapsed the walls of 
loneliness they had felt for so long.

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

As usual, Thranduil decided that he was not in the mood for the morning 
meal. Normally, he would have joined Celeborn, Glorfindel and Elrond 
for some early morning conversation, a brisk walk and maybe a glass of 
warm cider. Today, however, he only wanted one thing… peace. Even 
though he had forgiven Celeborn for his hasty judgment and harsh words, 
the confrontation stung, nonetheless. He was especially cross with Elrond 
and did not want to face his feelings of lust-hate for a while. He wondered 
why relationships always had to be so complex. He walked out onto the 
terrace that led from his bedchamber and inhaled sharply; he wasn’t alone. 
He turned around and bowed, as it was proper for a king to address a Lady 
this way. “Hello, Arwen.”

“Hello, Sire,” Arwen said, curtseying. “May I have a word with you?”

“Aye,” Thranduil said, “but not here in my bedchamber. Our 
unconventional choice of meeting places has already put us both in quite a 
predicament.”

“Oh, you are quite right,” Arwen said, blushing. “Can I meet you in my 
father’s healing room? He is not there right now and I would like to speak 
to you alone.”

“Very well,” Thranduil said. He walked to the doorway and bowed his 
head as Arwen exited. He followed behind her from the Mirkwood 
guesthouse to Elrond’s manor and tried to ignore the stares and whispers 
that followed them wherever they went. 

Once inside the healing chamber Arwen turned to face the king. “I shan’t 
keep you long, Sire. I only wanted to apologize to you for the behavior of 
my father and grandfather yesterday.”

“That is most kind of you, Arwen, but you cannot control the actions of 
others,” Thranduil said warmly.

“Then perhaps you will accept my apology as well,” Arwen said, casting 
her eyes downward.

“**Your** apology?” Thranduil asked in incredulity. “Why would you 
apologize to me?”

“Because I am partially to blame for what occurred yesterday,” Arwen 
said slowly.

“Indeed?” Thranduil said in disbelief. “And what pray tell could you have 
done to facilitate such malicious lies?”

“When my brothers asked me about the nature of our relationship… I did 
not tell them the truth. I did not tell them anything at all. In fact, by not 
telling them anything… I misled them. That is why my father and 
grandfather attacked you. If I had only told Elladan and Elrohir the whole 
truth, no ill would have befallen you.”

Thranduil laughed politely. “What a kind princess you are. In my eyes, 
you have done nothing wrong. If it will make you feel better, however, I 
accept your apology.” The king cupped Arwen’s chin and raised her head 
slowly until their eyes met. “If you did not tell the whole truth to Elladan 
and Elrohir, I assume it is because they harangued you mercilessly. Am I 
right?”

“Aye, Milord.”

“And I am certain that you did not take your brothers’ cheek too kindly.”

“Nay, I did not.”

“And, knowing you the way I do, I am certain you did not accept your 
brothers’ folly.”

“Nay. I became so angry that I slapped Elladan… quite hard, actually.”

Thranduil laughed. “Methinks you should reconsider your placement in 
this family as a Lady of Rivendell and join the ranks of Mirkwood.”

Arwen laughed. “Thank you, Milord.”

“For what?”

“For understanding.”

Thranduil smiled.

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

Legolas and Elladan entered Elrond’s manor. They had already searched 
for the king in vain in the Mirkwood guesthouse. Luckily, a servant told 
them that he saw King Thranduil heading toward the House of Elrond a bit 
earlier. So, the two warriors made their way around the large estate 
together.

Legolas’ heart was pounding in his chest. He did not want to do this. 
There was a part of him that still believed that telling his father was a 
mistake. On the other hand, he wondered if telling his father about the 
dreams would lighten his burden somehow. As he and Elladan trudged 
along corridor after corridor, these conflicting thoughts made the prince 
more nervous than ever.

“There he is,” Elladan said, interrupting Legolas’ thoughts.

The king had just emerged from Elrond’s healing chamber.

“Father,” Legolas heard himself say. 

The king turned around. “Yes?”

“Father… I… I … that is to say… may I speak with you for a moment?” 
Legolas stammered.

“Of course,” Thranduil responded. He ushered his son and Elladan into 
Elrond’s healing chamber, since it was the closest available room and 
turned to face them. Something was wrong.

“Father… I…” Legolas began slowly, staring at the floor. He sighed 
deeply and looked up, meeting his father’s eyes.

“Legolas!” Thranduil exclaimed, alarmed. “What ill has befallen you? 
Your skin is a pallid as a cloudy day.” 

“My nightmares have returned,” the prince responded quietly. “And they 
are worse this time than they were before.”

“Say no more,” Thranduil interrupted, raising his hand to silence the 
prince. The king rushed out of the chamber, leaving Elladan and Legolas 
alone.

“What just happened?” Elladan asked in dismay. “Certainly, the king 
didn’t just walk away from this.”

Legolas didn’t respond. He leaned against a nearby wall for support and 
rubbed his right temple. His head was throbbing and he felt quite dizzy.

“Legolas? Legolas, are you alright?”

The prince started to respond but was stopped short when his father, 
Elrond and Lord Celeborn entered the room.

“Legolas, please tell Elrond what you told me. And do not leave out any 
details,” Thranduil instructed hastily.

Legolas nodded and met Elrond’s eyes. “My nightmares have returned… 
but they are much worse than they were when I stayed in Rivendell 
before.”

“How so?” Elrond asked, approaching the prince.

“My dreams… they are… violent.”

“Violent?”

“Aye,” Legolas said. “And when I awaken from them my body is battered. 
Once… I was even bleeding…”
Elrond frowned. “Is there anything else?”

The prince hesitated but Elladan decided to interject something that 
Legolas had left out of the conversation.

“Legolas, tell my father about your vision. Tell him about Haldir… and 
the wolves.”

Elrond averted his gaze from his son back to the prince’s ashen face.

“I… I…”

“Yes?”

“I had a vision yesterday. Only… it was very similar to one of my 
dreams,” Legolas explained slowly. “I saw Haldir… he was walking in the 
woods when a tree was struck by lightening. A large limb fell down upon 
him, nearly splitting his body in two. And then… it happened… my 
waking dream began to unfold right before my eyes.”

“Haldir almost died?” Celeborn asked in distress.

“Aye,” Elladan said. “If Legolas had not pushed Haldir out of the way, he 
would be dead.”

Celeborn’s concern seemed to heighten. He placed his hand over his heart 
in a gesture of great alarm. 

“It would seem that these dreams are affecting Legolas’ gift as well,” 
Elladan added. 

“Indeed?” Elrond asked, his eyes widening. “How so?”

“My power has increased,” Legolas said slowly. “I can hear animals from 
farther away than before and last night I accidentally called a pack of 
wolves to me.”

Thranduil made an unintelligible sound of alarm but did not speak. He 
simply stared at Legolas with an odd look of disappointment and sadness 
on his face.

Legolas met his father’s eyes for a moment and hung his head in shame. 

Elladan, seeing Legolas’ actions, glared at Thranduil angrily. He couldn’t 
believe the king’s behavior, especially after all Legolas had been through.

Elrond did not seem to take any notice of the tension in the room and 
cupped the prince’s chin gently. He looked deeply into Legolas’ orbs. 
“Yours are the eyes of a slain warrior. Tell me, what are your nightmares 
about? Try to remember what you see when you dream. Then, describe 
your feelings about what you see.”

Legolas nodded and tried to think back to his most recent nightmare. He 
thought about the night that he and his brothers had been punished and 
were disallowed from attending the opening ceremony. His mind seemed 
to race and in no time he was facing a large orc-like creature. The beast 
crouched, poised ready to strike him. His fangs were bared and drool 
dripped off of them into a pool of saliva on the floor. Legolas could smell 
the stench of the creature – rancid meat mingled with blood and sweat. He 
reached slowly for his hidden dagger, which he usually kept tucked away 
beneath his tunic, but it wasn’t there. He knelt slowly to try and see if he 
had brought his boot knife with him, but quickly discovered that moving a 
second time was a mistake. The orc lunged at him, knocking him on the 
hard floor. 

The prince scrambled to his feet, looking for a weapon, any weapon, but to 
no avail. 

The orc punched Legolas in the ribs, causing the prince to groan from the 
pain and force of the blow. The orc hit him again, but this time in the 
stomach.

Legolas felt his head begin to spin, as he fell to the ground.

“Legolas!”

When the prince heard his name, he stood up abruptly. He decided then 
and there that he would not die without a fight. He grasped the orc around 
the neck and tried to strangle it, but the creature’s strength proved too 
great for the already weakened warrior. 

The beast shook loose from the prince’s hold and struck him in the face.

Legolas fell to the ground with a loud thud. He could taste his blood. He 
knew that his life had come to an end, and there was nothing he could do 
about it. He watched in terror as the creature hovered above him, staring 
into his eyes. He lay transfixed, staring into the creature’s bulging orbs. 
There, in the reflection of the orcs eyes, the prince saw Elladan and 
Elrohir. They were in a great battle. 

The creature blinked and a new picture formed in the orc-beast’s eyes.

Legolas saw Elrohir weeping hysterically, cradling an unknown, slain elf 
in his arms. The form almost looked like… but his thought was interrupted 
when the orc struck for the last time.

The creature slashed the prince across the neck with his long, razor-sharp 
claws.

The prince watched the image of Elrohir and the fallen warrior fade away 
as he fell into darkness.

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

Elrond, Elladan, Celeborn and Thranduil watched in horror as Legolas 
writhed on the ground. It was clear that he was suffering from some sort of 
attack, but by whom and why?

When the prince’s invisible attacker finally released him, Legolas was so 
badly battered that Elrond wondered if he would survive.

“Legolas?” Elladan said, unable to hide the emotion in his voice. He 
walked toward the unconscious prince and tried to rouse him.

“Nay,” Elrond said abruptly. “Leave him be. I want to examine him while 
he is unawares.”

“But… Father,” Elladan tried to protest.

“There is no time!” Elrond exclaimed. “Celeborn? Thranduil? Did you 
bring healers from your realms for the competition?”

“Aye,” Celeborn responded.

The king stared at Legolas with a horrified expression on his face. He 
acted as though no one else was in the room.

“Thranduil!” Elrond exclaimed.

“Aye?” 

“Thranduil, did you bring…”

“I… I did,” Thranduil answered absently. “Her name is Cylene.”

“Good,” Elrond said. “Both of you fetch them, now. And make haste. The 
young prince’s life may depend on it.”
 
--- 

TBC….