Tonight and Any Other

0.o; Finally, my cable has returned so that I can post this thing!

Ano, remember that this is taking place about 1,500 years after the last chapter. I promised to bring Ara-chan in by chapter 7, so here he is! ^.^

Someone who was reading this asked for more information about the seasons and Elvish calendar, so I've included a little something on them at the end of this chapter.

Also, I've had a few people ask me what the deal is with Whitelock - how a non-Lórien, dark-haired Elf came to live there, where he was originally from, why he's so scrawny (http://www.geocities.com/ilovehaldir/whitelock_color.jpg), etc. I'll probably be writing either a multi-part explanation fic or an insert for Tonight and Any Other, so keep your eyes peeled for that.


Title: Tonight and Any Other [Part 7/?]
Author: Silvertree (Megumi Takahashi)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Legolas/Haldir, Orophin/Whitelock, Elrond/Glorfindel, eventual Legolas/Aragorn and Celeborn/Haldir
Setting: Pre-LotR
Disclaimers/description: Please see chapter one of Tonight and Any Other.
Dedications: CryKat - You rock, chica. (Without you, where would I get my happy little LotR lemon piccies? Ah, Rúmil's bang-things... *purr*)

'...' Denotes speech in the Elvish languages.
/.../ Denotes thought.
Passages in italics denote scenes occurring in dreams.

----------


"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king."

-The Riddle of Strider


-----

'Surely you tell a falsehood, Legolas!' Haldir had to restrain himself from seizing the piece of parchment his lover read from, and he clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. Legolas was taken aback by Haldir's reaction, and he reached out to soothe the other Elf.

'I tell no falsehood, Haldir. I have been imposing upon your hospitality for well nigh on a century now, and my father wishes me to journey to Imladris to speak with Lord Elrond. A dark storm has been brewing in my homeland, and I am to ask Elrond's advice on it. Then I am to return to Mirkwood and help repel the invasion of darkness.'

Haldir grasped Legolas' shoulders and shook theer Eer Elf lightly, his voice rising in pitch as he felt panic seize him. He would take any excuse now, do anything to prevent his lover from traveling to the House of Elrond. The blond Elf sank to his knees, his hands falling from Legolas' shoulders to clasp his lover's long fingers.

'Legolas, you promised that you would stay at least until the Summer Festival!' It was a weak argument, and both Haldir and Legolas knew it. The Prince of Mirkwood knelt and brushed away a tear that was winding its way down Haldir's cheek, sighing as he did so.

'I know I promised, Haldir, but whatever I personally may say, my father's word can overrule it. He is a King, and I have no choice but to obey him. Were it possible I would take you with me on the journey, but Thranduil has specifically stated that I am to travel as fast as I possibly can. That means packing lightly and riding alone. Please believe me when I say that I am truly sorry. I have no wish to leave Lórien and her people, nor do I wish to leave you. But I have no choice in the matter, and I must leave this very afternoon if I am to reach Imladris by the end of the week.'

A gentle kiss fell upon Haldir's lips, before Legolas pulled his hands free and rose to his feet. The blond Elf tried not to see the look of pain on Haldir's face, and he fiddled needlessly with the buckle of his quiver.

'Haldir, I'll return as soon as I can, or perhaps you can visit me in Mirkwood.' The Elf looked skyward briefly; the sun was past its zenith. A sigh rippled through Legolas frame, and he turned to go.

'I love you, Haldir.'

The kneeling guardian made no reply, and so Legolas left the clearing they were conversing in with a leaden heart. Haldir didn't even look up as his lover departed, but he listened until the heavy footsteps, which Legolas took no care to mask, faded completely. Then the Elf collapsed completely to the soft, green carpet of grass and leaves, tears flowing down his face as his body convulsed with harsh sobs. He cried until his tears were gone, and even after that he continued to tremble with fear, exhaustion, and agony.

All this time, spent planning and warring with himself over the wisdom of his decision. Over one thousand years, and all for naught. It had been Haldir's intention to ask Legolas to bind himself with the exchange of the silver rings of marriage and a pledge of eternal devotion. Among the Elvish race, sex was considered marriage, regardless of the participants' genders. But once every Yén [1], during the Summer Festival, marriages could be built upon by public declaration and blessing. This Summer Festival was to be host to such an occasion, and Haldir had jumped at the chance to join with Legolas in the ceremony. Now, he would have to wait another century before an opportunity again presented itself, and Haldir knew that within a century, anything could change. These thoughts tumbled in the forefront of the Elf's mind.

But neither had Haldir forgotten the vision Celeborn had showed him in Galadriel's mirror, the painful and yet erotic entwining of the lightness of Elven-kind and the darkness of Man, nor had he forgotten a single detail of the image. Haldir was one of the few Elves who traveled extensively outside of Lórien, and he had made his share of journeys to visit Elrond as Galadriel's emissary. He remembered the art and architecture of every place he had visited, and the style that he had seen in the vision graced only one place in the whole of Middle-Earth.

Imladris of Hithaeglir. [2]

-----

Legolas rode harder than he had ever ridden before, spending three days and two out of three nights riding. There was only a distance of perhaps one hundred leagues between Lórien and Imladris, but though the horses bred by the Elves were both stronger and fleeter of foot than those used by the race of Men, the beasts still needed rest, though their riders often did not. Neither was the road easy; Legolas often scorned well-marked paths for more direct routes through trees and across expanses of plain. Riding along the roads made him uncomfortable, and not only for the fact that they were often watched by those the Elves considered enemies. In a time when the height of the Elvish race was diminishing, the mere sight of an Elf was enough to turn heads among many mortals. The sight of one riding full-tilt would undoubtedly bring unwelcome stares and wild rumors, two things Legolas disliked.

Avoiding roads did not, however, mean that trouble was also completely avoided. Many times Legolas was forced to drive back packs of animals, all hell-bent on killing him, and once he had to fend off a group of perhaps ten men. They appeared to have rather unsavory ideas implanted in their minds about what to do to a single Elf who was riding alone, and they did not break and flee until Legolas had, albeit regretfully, killed half of their number, staining the twin knives given to him by Haldir with their mortal blood.

When they had departed, Legolas buried the bodies and said a brief prayer over each of the graves. It was not in his nature to hate or fear humans, but neither was it in his nature to allow himself to be taken advantage of physically or mentally. As Legolas mounted his horse and continued on his way, he glanced back over his shoulder at the freshly dug earth. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that wherever the men were now, they were free from whatever spurred them towards such brutality.

Legolas arrived at Imladris early in the afternoon of the fourth day, and was greeted by Glorfindel as he reined his horse in by the stables. An Elf hurried forwards and led Legolas' mount inside to towel it off and feed it, while Glorfindel led the Prince of Mirkwood into the cool interior of Elrond's palace. The golden-haired Elf seemed truly surprised by Legolas' appearance, an emotion he made no attempt to hide.

'My Prince! It has been many a year since you have had cause to visit, and yet now you appear suddenly, and in a most travel-worn state. We did not expect your arrival, or we would have prepared for it!'

Legolas grimaced, remembering the pain he had put Haldir through when he broke the news to the other Elf. It would take a very long time before he could forget the agony on his lover's face and in his voice, and perhaps longer before he could forgive himself, even though he knew he was not at fault. He was merely the messenger, but as Celeborn had told him long ago, "It is not the bow that kills, but the arrow it fires."

'To be quite honest with you, I did not expect to be coming here. I was staying with Haldir in Lórien when I received the news several days ago, and I left the same day.'

Glorfindel made a small noise that could have meant any one of a number of things, and paused by a small fountain so that Legolas could wash the travel-grime from his face and hands.

'How are things going with Haldir, anyway?'

Legolas sighed and dried his face on a towel that Glorfindel had mysteriously produced.

'He wasnhapphappy that I had to leave, that much was obvious...'

Glorfindel took the towel and nodded sagely, motioning for Legolas to follow him as he began walking again.

'And well I know what you and he must be enduring. Last I was separated from Lord Elrond, I was unwell for many days. The pain of being removed from someone you have formed a strong bond with is unspeakable, especially if you are forced apart with little warning and separated by a great distance.'

Any further conversation was cut off by the arrival of a pair of large wooden doors, smooth to the touch and inlaid with metalwork. Glorfindel gave a single knock before he opened them, ushering Legolas into a large chamber, well lit by the sun, which streamed in through large windows. Legolas cast his eyes around; it was obviously a library or study of some sort. He could not recall being here upon his previous visit, and the sheer volume of the books that lined the walls amazed him. He had thought Mirkwood possessed a large library, and perhaps it did. But it was nothing compared to this.

However, where the room was unfamiliar, the faces were. Legolas smiled graciously at Arwen, Elrond's only daughter, and again at Elrohir and Elladan, the Stars of Imladris, twins well known for their relationship, which went far beyond that shared by most brothers. Arwen smiled demurely back at Legolas, and the twins grinned broadly. But the Prince of Mirkwood did not notice, for his eyes were fixed upon another.

This person was unfamiliar, and most certainly not Elven. Dark hair, which appeared black unless the sun caught it in just the right manner and turned it to a deep brown, fell in messy waves to the broad shoulders. The skin was too dark, the features too rugged, and the man's body was too bulky in the musculature to be that of an Elf. A short beard covered the lower portion of the man's face, seeming unbelievably strange to Legolas, for Elves grew no facial hair. Grey-green eyes locked with Legolas', and the Elf felt a shudder run through his body at the sheer intensity of the gaze. This, then, was undoubtedly a Man, born of the race of Men, and yet he was in Imladris.

Something was different about this one...

Legolas turned away, unable to hold the gaze of the captivating human. He felt a strange sort of fire shoot once through his veins; had he been alone, he might have faltered or stumbled. But instead he held his head high, and attempted to ignore the strange sort of hold the Man seemed to have upon him. Legolas hurried to catch up with Glorfindel, who, unaware of his follower's hesitancy, was rounding a bookcase some twenty feet away.

When he rounded the bookcase, Legolas was confronted by a very strange sight indeed. Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Imladris, was sprawled across a large, elegant chair in a very inelegant manner. He was sitting sideways, back propped on one of the sturdy chair arms, his legs draped casually over the other. In his lap rested a large, polished wooden board, the sort used by Elves intended to study or write while traveling, and on the board was a large roll of parchment, partially covered by writing. An inkwell sat nearby, along with several thick, leather-bound volumes. Elrond tapped the feathered end of a quill against his lips, his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. Then, unexpectedly, he turned to face the pair of Elves standing some feet away and smiled.

'Well, are you going to stand there all day, love? Invite the young prince in.'

A large smear of ink ran over Elrond's right cheekbone and disappeared into his dark hair.

Glorfindel laughed, walking towards Elrond as the dark-haired Elf set his "desk" and writing aside. They kissed briefly, and Legolas felt a stab of sorrow for Haldir as he watched the Elven-Lords. He missed the other, missed his smile and his laughter and his presence...

A slight cough from Elrond made Legolas blink. The Elf suddenly remembered where he was and whom he was about to address, and he swiftly dropped to one knee, his head bent in respect. Then strong, gentle hands were helping him to his feet, and Legolas found himself looking into Elrond's face. The Lord smiled gently, and his voice came softly and comfortingly.

'The title of 'Lorderelerely raises status in one's mind, Legolas. Do not kneel to me, for there is no reason for you to do so. I am not so great as our people would make me out to be; in the flesh we all stand as equals.'

Legolas smiled, and bowed his head in acknowledgement. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Glorfindel standing near Elrond's side. The golden-haired Elf chuckled softly and shook his head as if in resignation. Legolas couldn't help laughing himself, as he met Elrond's eyes.

'In the flesh we are equals, perhaps, for we all share the title of race: the Firstborn. Yet we are different in mind, my Lord, and there you surpass many. That is why I have come to your beautiful Imladris. At my father's wish, I seek your council on a matter of great importance.'

At these words Elrond raised an eyebrow, a look of surprise stealing over his face.

'Thranduil is asking for my advice? Never before has he asked, and never before has he needed it.'

Legolas nodded, and reached into a leather satchel that was slung over one shoulder and across his chest. He produced a small parchment scroll, sealed with wax and stamped with the symbol of the Mirkwood royal house. Elrond accepted it, breaking the seal as Legolas explained how he had come to arrive at Imladris.

'Prior to my departure I had been residing in Lórien for about one hundred years, studying under Celeborn and Galadriel. I had intended to remain until the end of Lairë [3], but I received my father's letter four days ago and hastened to you.'

Elrond chuckled and tucked the letter up one of the voluminous sleeves of his robe.

'Aye, I can tell that you have been in Laurelindórenan. Even in such a short time you have picked up that accent of theirs, for though they speak your own Sindarin tongue, it sounds different even to the casual listener. But enough discussion on this matter, for you look tired. I would merely have you meet one you do not know, and then I will have Lindir show you to your rooms. I would like to discuss the issue of Mirkwood with Glorfindel. We will discuss it with you after the evening meal, once we have made some sense of it.'

A relieved smile spread over Legolas' face at the statement; he was not in the frame of mind to discuss the matter at the moment. He was tired, and he wanted nothing more that a bath and a change of clothes. He bowed shallowly to Elrond, more out of habit than conscious thought.

'As you wish, Lord.'

Elrond shook his head at the formality, and asked Glorfindel to call his children. The Elven-Lord hurried off, returning moments later with the group that had been present when first Legolas had entered the library. Elrohir and Elladan entered first, engaged in a friendly sort of squabble. Legolas chuckled as Elladan hit Elrohir lightly across the back of the head; it would be almost impossible for him to tell the twins apart were it not for the fact that Elrohir wore three rings in each ear, while Elladan wore three in his left and two in his right. Arwen followed soon after, smiling a second time at Legolas. The Prince gave a perfunctory smile and nod in return, wishing Elrond would excuse him so that he might go to the baths.

Then, he entered the room, and all desire to leave vanished.

Elrond gave a knowing sort of glance at Legolas, and he crossed to where the tall human stood next to the twins. The Elf draped an arm around the Man's shoulders, and Legolas noted the unusual amount of warmth and affection between the Firstborn and the Follower.

'Legolas Greenleaf, I would like you to meet my son, Estel.'

/Son?!/ Legolas' eyes flew wide with surprise; of all the things he expected Elrond to say, that was most certainly not one of them.

Elrond laughed at the look that crossed Legolas' fair face, and a smile turned Estel's lips. The grey-green eyes flashed with merriment, and the human stepped forward, offering his hand to the Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas took it dumbly in a warrior's greeting, his hand clasping Estel's forearm.

'Greetings, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. I do apologize for the way in which my father introduced me to you; he finds great joy in watching the shock of others. I am not, obviously, his biological son. Rather, Lord Elrond raised me alongside his own children, though they are far older than myself.'

Legolas grinned, and tried to ignore how fast his heart was racing. It pounded inside his chest as if it were trying to break free, and the Elf felt slightly faint.

'And greetings unto you, Prince Estel of Imladris. You must pardon my reaction to you; few have been the occasions upon which I have interacted with those of your race, but many are the number of those interactions that have been unpleasant. Stranger still it seems to me that a human would reside within Imladris, though I suppose it would be far more unlikely to see one of your kind in fair Laurelindórenan.'

Estel laughed aloud, and his face, harsh in Elvish views, softened with the action. He gave Legolas' arm a final squeeze, before he stepped back slightly and took in the Elf's travel-worn appearance.

'It truly would be greater surprise to see a human in Lothlórien, for your kin are most protective of their realm. As such, I do not know much about it. I would be most appreciative if you would speak to me of it later; for now, I believe you have earned a rest. My father kept you only to introduce me, and now that is completed, I find no reason for you to remain for talk.' Estel turned towards his Half-Elven foster father and blinked pointedly. 'Is that not right, Lord?'

Elrond shook his head, a smile slipping over his face as he placed a hand on Estel's shoulder. His youngest "child" was never one to mince words if he could help it, and having said his piece, he was quite ready to see Legolas treated properly, with the services due a guest. The Elven-Lord bowed slightly to Legolas, an apology for making the Prince wait.

'Forgive me, Legolas. You are weary from your travels; it was unkind of me to keep you for so long. Glorfindel will take you now to Lindir, who will in turn show you to your rooms, and the baths as well. I trust that I will see you at the evening meal in the main hall?'

Legolas nodded, and moved to Glorfindel's side.

'Thank you, Lord Elrond. I shall be present, though hopefully a trifle more presentable.' The Prince wrinkled his nose slightly; the previous day he had been forced to travel through a swamp, and the stench still clung lightly to his clothing. 'And less fragrant as well,' he added, a wry smile curling his lips. Bowing to Elrond and his children, Legolas allowed Glorfindel to lead him from the library. As he passed Estel, the human reached out and brushed the Elf's hand lightly, grinning as Legolas stiffened slightly in surprise. The Prince of Mirkwood felt himself redden, from the hollow of his throat to the tips of his pointed ears, and it was all he could do to prevent himself from rushing ahead of Glorfindel.

The second the library door had closed, Glorfindel rounded on the embarrassed Prince, grinning and crossing his arms over his chest.

'Legolas! How improper of you, stealing our young human like that!' The grin widened as Legolas' flush deepened and the booted feet shuffled anxiously against the flagstones.

''Twas not intentional, Glorfindel, and well you know it! Does he do this to every visitor that passes through Imladris?'

Glorfindel made a small noise in his throat as he walked down the hall, Legolas at his side. The blond Elf was puzzled himself; Estel usually did not take so quickly to visitors.

'Nay, Legolas, he does not. He must take a true fancy to you, for him to act in such a manner. Although, it does put you in somewhat of a bind. You yourself are wed, and yet Estel shall undoubtedly be persistent in his pursuit of you. Though,' Glorfindel continued thoughtfully, 'it is not uncommon for an Elf to be wed thus, to more than one...'

'Please, let it not be so,' Legolas moaned, unconsciously bringing a hand to his forehead. 'I know that some Elves take more than one lover, and as such more than one husband or wife. But I could not bear to do that to Haldir! In over one thousand years, neither of us has taken a lover save for the other, and it would be cruel to begin now.'

Glorfindel shrugged, clasping his hands behind his back.

'That may be the truth, dear one, but do keep the option open. Though you care for Haldir, and I do not doubt that, you may find that Estel can give you welcome pleasure as well.' The blond Elven-Lord suddenly hurried forward, waving a hand and calling out loudly. 'Lindir! Oi, Lindir!'

Some fifty feet ahead, a tall, willowy Elf came to a halt, turning to look back over his shoulder. Thick, raven-dark hair fell to his waist, and his stormy grey eyes sparkled as he recognized the one hailing him. He grinned, and waved back.

'Áye, Glorfindel!' [4] The singer trotted swiftly to where Glorfindel was, and together they returned to Legolas' side, Lindir chattering in his lilting, musical voice. 'I thought that perhaps you had taken our guest to his rooms already, and I was hastening there to deposit his belongings. If you wish I can guide him from here.' A smile from Glorfindel rewarded the offer, and the Elven-Lord embraced his friend lightly.

'I thank thee, Lindir, for Lord Elrond wished to discuss ttertter of some importance with me.' Glorfindel could see that the other Elf was interested by the proclamation, but to Lindir's credit, he said nothing. He merely nodded and took Legolas by the arm, smiling kindly at the Prince.

'Come, I'll show you to your quarters.' Legolas waved to Glorfindel as he was led away, before turning his attention to the halls. If it was permissible, he had every intention of returning to the great library during his visit. Fortunately it was not much farther to the quarters that had been hastily readied after Legolas' unexpected arrival; they were located in the royal wing, near the important locations in the palace. Lindir bowed Legolas into the room, gesturing to where Legolas' bags sat waiting.

'I hope that you'll find these satisfactory; we had little time to prepare them. Your bags are there, as you can see, and I placed your swords on the shelf over there.' He pointed to a low shelf, upon which rested two long, wrapped bundles. 'You may also see fit to place your other gear there as well, for there is room.'

The singer was cut off as Legolas bolted into the room, hastily unbuckled his quiver, and set it upon the shelf. His bow and knives followed, and within seconds he was once again standing next to Lindir.

'Thank you, friend. I would be most appreciative if you could show me to the baths, however. I feel the need to cleanse myself, for the road tends to add its share of grime to one's person.'

Lindir chuckled, and made a motion signaling that Legolas follow him. The dark-haired Elf turned down a nearby hallway, and pointed to a door.

'You'll be pleased to know that they are not any great distance from you. Towels, soap, and other such necessities are located within. Now, if you'll excuse me...' The Elf hurried off, muttering something to himself about preparations. Legolas watched him momentarily, then shrugged and opened the wooden door that lead to the baths.

He stopped dead, amazed at the sight that greeted him. A large, sunlit room faced out over the nearby waterfalls, and the air was warm and comforting. There were two large, rectangular pools within the room; one had steam rising from the surface. Legolas knew that the other one would be cold, for those wishing to refresh themselves. There was also a small room to one side, with wooden walls and a wooden door. Legosmilsmiled; this was what he had been craving for days.

It was the work of moments to remove his clothing, and he set it aside on a smooth wooden bench. Legolas slid into the pool of cold water, gasping at the icy chill. He ducked under the surface, swimming to the end of the pool before he climbed out, shivering slightly. The Elf actually ran the short distance to the wooden room, slipping into the dim interior and shutting the door behind him. He poured a ladle-full of water over the hot coals that rested in a stone basin, and collapsed upon one of the wooden benches. The steam that boiled up from the basin made the air difficult to breathe, but Legolas stayed inside anyway, inhaling the scents of cedar and pine.

Several times Legolas thought he heard the sounds of another in the bathing area, but each time he dismissed it as a trick of his mind. It had been a while since he had gotten to enjoy a steam bath. Finally, however, the heavy heat became too much, and Legolas rose and opened the door, sweat pouring from his bare skin. He came to an immediate and grinding halt, however, for it became immediately apparent that he was not alone. Clothing sat on the bench next to his own, and stepping into the hot pool was...

/Ai, Elbereth!/

Legolas swallowed hard, before he walked determinedly towards the pool of hot water. Estel was immersed up to his waist when he turned, smiling at the sight of the Elf walking towards him. He moved slightly to one side, and Legolas slipped quickly into the water. The Prince rinsed the sweat from his body and sank onto one of the stone benches that lined the edges of the pool. Estel took a seat next to him, and the two sat in a tense silence for some minutes. Finally, Estel nodded towards the bench upon which their clothing sat.

'I brought a fresh set of robes for you. Imladris makes wonderful cloth, different from that of the other kingdoms. I would be honored if you would keep them, so that you might remember us.'

Legolas chuckled, and reached up to smooth his hair back from his face.

'I'll keep them, if it pleases you, Prince Estel. Though I do not need them to remember either you or Imladris.'

Estel blushed, and focused his attention upon the surface of the water. He felt strange, being so close to the blond Elf, and it was a feeling that was new to him. He unconsciously moved closer to Legolas, a fact the Elf overlooked. Estel blinked suddenly; something was very wrong.

'Oi, Estel!'

By the time the words left Legolas' mouth, Elrond's foster son was already submerged in the pool of cold water. He broke the surface, spluttering and shaking water from his dark hair. He smiled apologetically at Legolas, searching his mind for an excuse. Finally, he gestured towards the large window and the setting sun.

'Forgive me, Legolas, but it is almost time for the evening meal. If you are willing, I will escort you.'

Legolas nodded slowly, and climbed out of the hot water. The cold water took his breath away as he rinsed himself in it, and he was grateful to dry himself with one of the soft towels that sat nearby. Estel soon stood beside him, and the pair dressed in silence. Legolas toweled most of the moisture from his long, golden hair before he slipped into the robes Estel had brought for him. They gave the appearance of being thick and heavy, but upon donning them, Legolas found that it felt as if he were clothed in air. He smoothed the silver and pale blue fabric self-consciously, until Estel's hand stopped him. Legolas looked at the human; Estel was wearing robes of a deep wine color, offset with a silver sash. He smiled gently at the Elf, and led him towards the door.

'You look beautiful, Legolas. Stop fussing.'

The blush that crept over Legolas' face was lost in the pink tinge lent to his cheeks by the heat of the baths, and he averted his gaze, murmuring a short thank you. Estel nodded, and brushed a friendly hand against Legolas' shoulder. The Elf managed a weak smile, but he followed Estel without comment. Then Elrond's foster son stopped outside of Legolas' quarters, standing silently until the Prince spoke.

'Estel, why do we hesitate?'

The human bowed slightly, and gestured towards the closed door.

'Surely you have a mark of your rank, that others may take note of you.' Legolas understood what Estel meant; he nodded shortly and entered his room. Opening one of his bags, he removed a carefully wrapped bundle and folded back the soft cloth. Gently, he picked up the intricate diadem Galadriel had crafted for him and presented to him over a millennium ago, and crossed to the mirror that hung on the wall. He placed it on his head, centering it. He had very few occasions to wear it, for it was a privilege to own such a thing, and it was rarely flaunted.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, and Legolas stiffened. The voice in his ear was soft and low, and the arms were warm and inviting.

'Beautiful, my Prince. Will you do me the honor of sitting with me at the meal?'

As Legolas looked into the mirror, his mind apologized to Haldir and noted how... perfect the combination of dark and light looked, both within the same moment. And in that moment, Legolas found himself unable to refuse.

----------

To be continued... (There was going to be more in this part, but I wanted to post it, and it was getting too long besides.)

[1]- "Rivendell of the Misty Mountains"

[2]- "Long-year"; the 'true' Elvish year. One Yén is equal to 144 solar years (coranar).

[3]- "Summer"; the High-Elven (Quenya) name for the second of six Elvish 'seasons'. Containing 72 days, it was one of the longer seasons. The Sindarin form is laer.

[4]- "Hail, Glorfindel!"

---

The Elvish Calendar (Calendar of Imladris):

Since someone asked for it, here it is.

The Elvish calendar is basically a "system of reckoning," and is divided into six full seasons plus a few extra days, as opposed to the calendar of Men, which is four seasons long. The lengths of the seasons vary, but four of them have a fixed length, which, in terms of days, is a multiple of six (6) or twelve (12). The six seasons and extra days combine to create one full year, called a loa (or coranar), the average length of which is 365 days.

* The Yén- The true Elvish year, the yén is also referred to as a "long-year." One yén is equivalent to 144 loa.

* The Seasons-

Tuilë (Q.)/Ethuil (S.)- "Spring." A season of fixed length, Tuilë contains 54 days. It was the first of the six Elvish seasons, and the beginning of the loa.

Lairë (Q.)/Laer (S.)- "Summer." The second of the six Elvish seasons, Lairë has a fixed length of 72 days, making it one of the longer seasons.

Yávië (Q.)/Iavas (S.)- "Autumn." The third of the six Elvish seasons, it has a fixed length of 54 days.

Quellë, Lasse-lanta ["Leaf-fall"] (Q.)/Firith, Narbeleth ["Sun-waning"] (S.)- "Fading." The fourth of the six Elvish seasons, and the last with a fixed length.

Hrívë (Q.)/Rhîw (S.)- "Winter." The fifth of the six Elvish seasons. This season has no fixed length.

Coirë (Q.)- "Stirring." The last of the six Elvish seasons, it has no definite length.


* Extra/Special Days-

A few extra days were added to the Elvish calendar to correct inherent inaccuracies in the system. Some days were also special in the Elvish calendar.

Enderi- The three middle days inserted between Yávië and Quellë. Every twelfth year, these extra days are doubled, thereby giving the average loa a length of 365 days.

Yestarë- The last day of Coirë, Yestarë is the day on which each new loa begins.

---

Phew. 0.o


Sources:

The Tolkien Companion, J.E.A. Tyler
© 1976 by J.E.A. Tyler and Pan Books Ltd. (typography and illustration)

The Return of the King (LotR III), J.R.R. Tolkien
© 1955, 1965 by J.R.R. Tolkien
© Renewed 1983 by Christopher R. Tolkien, et. al.