the trouble with love

Title: The trouble with love
Author: Peniel
E-mail: familie@hetnet.nl (ps. I am busy so it might take a while before I respond but I –will- respond. I love feedback)
Pairings: Many: see author’s notes. But the main characters are Elrond, Elladan and Legolas.
Rating: NC-17 and -no- BSDM, Incest or character death
Summary: Mirkwood, Lothlóriën and Imladris get together for the Imladris festivities. There are old and new pains, old and new troubles, good and bad advise, things happen and not always for the best. Relationships are formed and destroyed. Not everything is what it seems.
Genre: AU ; Romance; Drama; Angst
Warning: Highly AU.
Author’s notes:
First and foremost the promised pairings:
Elrond/Thranduil ; Elrond/Melpomean ; Elladan/Elvil ; Legolas/Elnihir ; Erestor/Thrilmaldur ; Sealbeth/Valthroman ; Orophin/ Elrohir ; Glorfindel/Ecthelion ; Rumil/Thranduil ; Haldir / Elgalad ; Joreb/Silinde ; Celeborn/Galadriel (to be complete)
LIKE I SAID BEFORE : I FOCUS UPON LEGOLAS, ELROND and ELLADAN.
Timetable:
This starts fourhundred years after the Ring had been destroyed. The elves who have sailed for Valinor have already returned.
Quenya:
I don’t use much elvish in this fic, but when I do I mostly use Quenya. If it is Sindarin I will say so. Translations are always given after each chapter, as well as some extra notes, if necessary.
When I make them swear I adopt our own to their live. For God’s sake therefore becomes For the Valar’s sake. Go to hell becomes go to Mordor. And so on.
Elves:
A lot of the elves are OC, but amongst them are my creations. (hand’s off) They are:
Elvil ; Elnihir ; Elgalad ; Valthroman ; Onardodya ; Thrilmaldur ; Joreb ; Lómiol ; Makaik
Lunanel e mae may be added when writing this tale.
To the other OC’s: I hope I do the original creator justice and wont find myself running from arrows. I also hope Tolkien’s characters will be happy with their new role.

Ok, let’s start:

The first ten chapters are a sort of introduction to all the players.
“ ” indicates speach
/ indicates thought
~~~~~~~~ indicates a change in time or place
- - emphasises the word(s)
` ` indicates farspeaking.

Chapter one Anticipation

It was a warm day and the sun’s rays positively burned this wood, but to those used to the conditions it didn’t matter and the Elf didn’t notice one way or the other. He stood on the edge of his balcony, his hands clapped behind his back, because it was the only logical place to put them since his country did not use balustrades.
The entire day he had been talking to his advisors, making sure all urgent matters were taken care of, for it would be a while before he came back.
He closed his star-sparkling eyes and inhaled the surrounding air. He could smell the arrival of summer and let himself be drifted of on the breeze. It was on times like these his inner light shone out and brighter than the little sparkle he normally allowed out.
The toddlers, who were playing below, stopped and stared up in awe. It was palpable that the Elf on the balustrade was an ancient one and possessed great skills. They all hoped to become just as skilled one day.

But around them the world was buzzing with activity. Everybody was making everything ready for the departure of the royal family to enjoy the festivities. Elves of every calibre trying to get their job done without interfering that of another or get interfered themselves.
The air was filled with anticipation, anxiety and expectation. The sounds of which slowly invaded the Elf’s senses and he remembered his own eagerness to depart, but in the meantime he could do nothing else but dread the moment of arrival.

The King had gratefully decided he should accompany them but now that the moment of departure came closer he became worried. What if he didn’t remember, or even worse, remembered but didn’t acknowledge him. The mere thought was enough to make him sick to the stomach.

He slowly dressed himself into his armour and headed towards the area where they would meet up.
As he carefully walked up to them as so not to disturb their conversation, he could sense they were talking about him.
“ Why did you ask him along? We are perfectly capable of defending ourselves ata. And even if you question our skills, we still have our baby brother, auch” The baby brother had just stomped the speaker in the stomach, hard.
“That aught to teach you to treat him properly. Your own fault Daiz. But I have my reasons for asking Valthroman along and don’t even go on that road Makaik. I will not allow it. Thanks for cg heg here little one, instead of meeting us on the road. How are you?”
“Fine ata, but I wonder why we are invited this year. They celebrate it every year and now we get invited. It just doesn’t make sense.”

They had received an invitation to attend at this years celebrations at Imladris. And it wasn’t as though Legolas didn’t trust the motives, but he knew that his dad and Imladris’ lord did not get along very well. They weren’t at war, but to call them friends would definitely be stretching the truth.

“Ah but Legolas, surely you must welcome the opportunity to get reunited with Elladan and Elrohir?” Joreb decided to bring everybody’s attention elsewhere, anywhere but the invitation.
“Yes, I must admit I am. It has been two hundred years since we last saw each other. I wonder what they have been up too” “Fathering or so they say. I just dread the notion of ever having children.” “You are fortunate ata never felt the same way as you, Daiz, or you would never have been born.” “If that had been the case I am sure I would have stopped after your gentle tyranny on this household Joreb. Ah, there you are Valthroman. Good, now we can leave.”

“How do we travel?”; Legolas wanted to know. Daiz just couldn’t resist. “ On horseback you nitwit. Of course if you rather walk….” “No stop it! Legolas, I do not want to see any injuries on this journey and Daiz, stop harassing your brother.”
“What about sisters-in-law?” On that everybody went into a laughing fit for it was common knowledge that Joreb’s wife Silinde was Daiz’s master at everything, even when they were but mere elflings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had ridden almost the entire day now, but finally the trees of Imladris came into view.
Galadriel looked at all the elves accompanying her. At her side her dear sweet husband Celeborn. She still thanked the Valar for not taking his life at The Last Alliance. A long time ago, even for their race, but she could still see his pale face: it was looking into the face of death.

She remembers it as if it were yesterday, the day she left the healing tent after receiving tens of thousands of wounded elves. And none were that beauty she saw only for two seconds every day. After checking each face she had hope he was unharmed, but the moment she stepped outside she felt her heart stop and the only indicator she had dropped everything she’d been holding was that she had to walk around the mess created to reach the horrid image.
There on the ground, amongst many other dead faces she recognized his. Carefully stepping over all others she slowly made her way over, if only to say goodbye to the one she would never know. She kneeled next to him, and relieved a sigh of regret. But then the next shock registered and she gave out a cry of relief.
“This one still breaths, Help me please.” It was Gil-galad’s herald that had answered her cry and together they bound the wounds. But it was too late, he had lost too much blood…
Elrond knew of a way though and he had used his energy to catapult her life-force into the dying elf. Some months later they had wed. Until today her husband never knew about why and how he had survived and Galadriel would do everything to keep it a secret.

Behind them she saw one of their oldest advisors. It had taken both her and Celeborn hours to talk him into coming, but then, when they were about to give up, he caved in and agreed to the vacation, as they called it. Truth was that Elrond had requested his presence. They both had very good ideas why, but still…

Riding behind him were the three best Galadhrim there were and she was ever so proud of them.
Haldir, cocky and stern, but she knew that was just because he was the eldest and had always had to take care of his smaller brothers. Yes, he had proven himself in countless situations in service and making him Head Warden was only logical.
Then there was Orophin. Now he was no mystery at all; in fact, he was the only elf in the world she had no trouble reading at all. His face was an open book. If only others would read it as well, she grimly thought.
And last but certainly not least the little one Rumil. Even though he was millennia old she would never stop seeing him as a little elfling in need of guidance and care. She senses his heart was heavy but could not possibly guess the reason. That he never talked didn’t really help either.

Behind them rode two more guards, who were busy chatting to Elgalad, Haldir’s friend. She was originally form Imladris, and had requested to join the party which had been happily granted, but had been a member of the Galadhrim for centuries now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had to hurry now, for the trees told them both parties were close to arrival. Fortunately it would take some more hours after they had reached the borders, for which Elrond was very grateful. Now they had time to search the wayward elflings and get them presentable. If there is such a thing with those two.
He didn’t remember ever having this much trouble with his sons or even Arwen, who used to be quite the little tyrant before Estel had graced the house. How he missed them both so very much, but he took comfort from the fact they had lived and died happy together.

Now where were those two, half the household was already looking for them, without success. Ah there came Elladan, maybe he would have more luck?
Elrond slowly made his way downstairs and arched his eyebrows in annoyance. His son was nowhere to be seen. /Don’t tell me I have to run after three now?/ he desperately thought. But on turning he saw his eldest kneeled near the statue of Elbereth. Yes, Elladan did had more luck than the rest.

Slowly he walked over to them. He chuckled at what he saw.
Elladan completely covered in dirt and grime and Elnihir pouting and repeating ‘do we have to’ over and over again. But the most pleasant side was the youngest one, Elvil, trying to mould a smile on Elladan’s face.
“ I see you have found our little runabouts, Elladan. And that you’ve decided to bring half Imladris inside. Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up. The others will arrive soon, Legolas is coming too.” Elladan handed the youngens over to his father and climbed the stairs to his rooms, which he still shared with his twin.
“Come on, you two, lets get you dressed and then after the others have arrived you can annoy the cooks ok?”

End chapter one.
TBC

Translations of some names:
Elnihir means starlord and is constructed of elen and the Sindarin word hîr. The Quenya word for lord is heru, which would lead to a less attractive name (Elneheru).

Elvil means shooting star. It could also mean shining star, depending on which translation of vil- you take, but I intent it to mean shooting star only. (read and find out why)

Elgalad means starlight. (El (short for elen) and Sindarin galad)

Estel is one of Aragorn’s many names. (Why, Tolkien, why?)

Elbereth means starkindler and is one of Varda’s titles.


Chapter two Arrival

Anar was busy going to sleep and she covered the world in a warm and gentle golden glow. It gave everything added warmth. The trees seemed to sing with joy and even the weeping willow temporarily stopped weeping.

Through the trees two parties could be seen slowly approaching the main house, although both came from a different direction. But they would arrive at the clearing at the exact same time, that was obvious.

Awaiting that moment the reception committee stood in front of the main entrance. Elladan and Elrohir stood next to their father, Glorfindel and Erestor next to Elrohir and Melpomean and Sealbeth next to Elladan. The little ones in front of the twins who had trouble holding them back.

As soon as both parties came to a halt Elrond stepped forward and addressed them. “A warm welcome to Imladris to you all. Mae Govannen. I trust the journey here was safe and pleasant. Your rooms have been readied in expectance of your arrival and the horses will be taken care of. These elflings here are Elvil and Elnihir; you all know the others. Now come we will guide you to your rooms. Elrohir, please take care of your grandparents. Thranduil may come with me; Elladan will show your sons were to go” On that he turned and showed the way to the king of Mirkwood.
Glorfindel would show the Galadhrim and Mirkwood soldiers their rooms and Erestor took care of ‘Lóriën’s advisor.

And whilst the sunbeams slowly faded away to be exchanged for starlight the guests were shown to their rooms and retired, each with their own thoughts, desires and problems. But what neither of them knew was that the problems where about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glorfindel had decided that he really didn’t like that Mirkwood soldier. Such arrogance, it even bested Haldir’s. The soldier had made it perfectly clear he didn’t look forward to following Glorfindel around. As if that arrangement had been his fault. No, for complaints the upset elf had to turn to Erestor, not take it out on the innocent that was Glorfindel. And not one word had been spoken since the arrival; no he really did not like that elf.
Of course Haldir’s presence hadn’t really approved matters. He had been glaring ever since they had arrived at the yard. And he had noticed most of those glares were directed at Elrohir.
Well, he just had to keep an eye out then.

As he was walking the last guard to his rooms, Glorfindel regretted the route he had taken for it resulted in arriving at Orophin’s room first. And that had been the only one who knew how to speak. But even the mutual silence of the others sounded loud compared to what Rumil was offering him. If he didn’t know any better he’d say he was being followed by a ghost. Well, he’d reach the room soon enough and than he could go back to chatting with the others.

“Here we are. I trust everything will be to your liking. If not, don’t hesitate to ask someone. Food and refreshments will be brought to you shortly and tomorrow morn a servant will show you where we dine.”

But Glorfindel wasn’t the only one who found himself in an uneasy situation. Elladan’s journey through the house wasn’t much fun either. He had showed Joreb and his wife to a room first and Daiz last. All of them bantered but he was in no such mood. His gloominess eventually reflected onto Daiz and Legolas and an awkward silence slept in between them.
Legolas tried addressing it, but received only a glare in return.
“It is nothing. Just weary from the journey. I’ve only just returned you know. And you must be tired too” But there was no laughter from the lips or in the eyes.

The only trips towards the guestrooms made with mirth and in happiness were the ones of Elrohir and Erestor. Their charges showed much happiness and bantering right until they reached their destination.
Of course Elrohir and his grandparents were glad to see each other again and were happy to catch up. “Stay a while before we retire and tell us more about your son. We haven’t seen much of yet,yet, but he looks like a handful.” “Not as much as I once have been to you I am sure, ata’da.”
After entering he closed the door and hoped Elladan could entertain himself tonight, but then again he had been assigned to the Mirkwood princes. Seeing Legolas again was the last thing his twin needed he was sure, but maybe their banter would be catching to Elladan and make him smile. It saddened him immensely that his brother had stopped smiling altogether.
Galadriel saw hood ood and drew him close. “Trouble yourself not, young one, for Elladan will learn to trust and love again. Someone will turn his gaze from the past into the future, not far from now. Come my son, and tell us of your child.”

In another part of the building Elrond was slowly walking next to Thranduil. He could feel the tension in the air. The other still hadn’t forgiven him he knew, but he had hoped to at least create a more comfortable friendship than this irritating truce, for that was what it was.
But they now had so much in common, both their wives left for Valinor and have build new lives. He felt sorry for the other though, for he got more than his share.

***FLASHBACK***
It was one hundred and seventy-five years ago since he had arrived at Valinor at yet he felt no better or happier than when he had arrived. The thought of losing his sons pained him for he was sure they would soon decide to become humans. And then he would lose threthree of his children to that fate.

But for now he couldn’t think about that, he berated himself, for Galadriel had come to him to talk about something and he could tell by looking at her it was serious.

“Most we have lost, but more we have gained. And yet I do not feel it. Has Vilja drained me so much I can no longer sense?”
“No son, you are not alone, many share your regret and longing. We came because we answered a call, but we hear it still. Many of our kin are restless here, only looking to us for guidance. If we were to leave, many would follow us back.”
“Would you consider it?”
“I -am- considering it, Elrond. I, like many others, long for the familiar feeling, for the known trees, the smell of the beach and sea there.”
“Than go, but go without me We came together but I shan’t return. I have let her down once. I can’t do it again.”
To that Galadriel extended her hand and in it he saw the shimmer of a golden band. The wedding ring he gifted Celebrían. “She is no more, Elrond. I, with you, wish it weren’t so, but it is. As much as it saddens me; my daughter is my daughter no longer. Or your wife. She gave me this so you would be free as well, although she no longer can put any meaning to that phrase.”
Elrond shrugged. “None here can, or so it seems. Indeed, peace comes with a high price. Perhaps it is too high.” He turned the band around in his hand and threw it in the water. “Alright I will go with you”
But then he remembered one other.
“I see your thoughts and we shall find her first, before we sail”

Finding her took twenty-four years and only to find her wed again was painful. He can still hear Galadriel’s voice telling him to keep it to himself and not to reveal it to him.

***END FLASHBACK***

It had sounded to logical back than, and the most natural thing to do, but now….

As he glanced sideways he could see the pain and hope for a love lost on the others face. No, to keep that information from him was wrong. Had it been the other way around, he would have wanted to know too. But how would he tell and should he even do it himself. He didn’t want to risk war with the blond and everybody knew how explosive that elf was; he should be lucky to stay alive after delivering such a blow.
He decided he needed some of the dwarven spirit. But then he remembered he didn’t have any. He should go down to the basement. Ah, he just figured out a way to loosen it up, maybe, just maybe…..

“I just remembered you have a special liking towards the spirits, don’t you? After you’ve refreshed yourself, would you care to join me in my study to down one?” /Please say yes/ he thought to himself.
After a thoughtful look from the other and a piercing gaze , which Elrond allowed, Thranduil accepted. “Though I must admit, if I should see a bathtub I most likely won’t come out again.”
“In that case, this is your room, and now follow me to my study, if you will.” He was glad to see his little joke went down well.

He knew the Mirkwood king wasn’t as mean as he pretended to be. He understood those actions back then, because it probably saved his kingdom, but now? And why was it that he felt himself on the receiving end of that wrath more than once. What could he have done to deserve that?

Thranduil saw the confused expression appear on his host’s face, like he had so many times.
He knew what Elrond was thinking of, but he would never give the half-elf an explanation. He wondered why Elrond had asked him along for a drink. Getting drunk in the half-elf’s presence was not wise, for he could easily kill him, or worse. But he just needed to know what the other wanted to discuss and as long as Elrond didn’t plan on discussing this and demand an explanation it really wouldn’t matter.

End chapter two
TBC

Note:
Anar is the proper translation for sun. Many use Arien, but that’s the name of the Maia that guided Anar’s path. Both the Tolkien Lexicon as the Counya Course of Helga state Anar.
The same goes for Isil and the Maia Ithil
Translations:
Mea Govannen is Sindarin and means well met or be welcome


Chapter three Surprises

“ O, please cooperate. Get into your sleeping robe, master Elnihir.” Calling the little one master was the biggest mistake the girl could have made but then again she was new here and didn’t know him very well yet.
“NO! I don’t want to, I am not sleepy and won’t go to bed yet. Who were all those people today? I’ve never seen them before, who are they?”
“I do not know little one, now please show me a little courtesy alright.?”
“NO!”
“Elnihir. Apologize.” He didn’t have to look to know the speaker was Elladan, for he was the only one who had a voice so devoid of emotion. He would do anything to please his uncle. “Yes uncle Elladan. I am sorry, Lúnanel. Forgive me.”
“It’s alright, can I leave him to you milord? I have so many things to attend to before I can retire and this one isn’t making it easy.”
Elladan nodded his approval. “Yes go”
“Uncle Elladan?” “Yes?” “Who were those people today? I’ve never seen them before.”
“That’s right for they were here last two hundred years ago and you weren’t born then.”

Elladan saw Elvil coming out of his hiding place. Like Elnihir he just as much wanted to stay awake, but whereas the other just defied the people putting them to bed, he’d rather hid himself. But not for Elladan, never. That was his favourite elf, the only one able to stop his tantrums and silence him when crying.
When his preference for Elladan was first noticed everybody was pleased except for Elladan; he was just dismayed. But he had had long years to resign himself to that situation. It would stop after the boy had reached his maturity, he was sure, and in the meantime he would patiently sit it out.

He grinned when Elvil started pulling his arm to get him to answer Elnihir’s question. “Alright, alright, kindly leave my sleeve in shape, thank you. Well the people that were standing on our side come from ‘Lóriën, also called Lothlóriën. The two Elves in the front are its Lord and Lady: Celeborn and Galadriel. Yes, they are my grandparents.
“The one standing slightly next to them is one of their advisors: Thrilmaldur. Now don’t let him fool you: he got Elrohir and me out of numerous of trouble when we did something stupid again. He was conceived after the last alliance, so he is an ancient elf, treat him with more respect than we did, I now know he deserves it.
“Now the guards. I don’t know all of them but I do know the three up front: Haldir, the stern looking one, Orophin, who is always laughing and chattering like a maiden and Rumil. They’re brothers, you know and I believe the woman is called Elgalad.”
“Elgalad, doesn’t that make her an Imladris elf?”
“I suppose you’re right, Elnihir, but I believe she left this place to join the Galadhrim.”
“Oh. What of the other ones, are they from Lorien too???”
“No, they are not, Elnihir, but from Mirkwood. The first one you would have seen is King Thranduil. You can always recognize him by his eyes. They’re like a reflection of a starless night. So dark and yet so full of light it is hard to imagine.
“The four elves standing next to him are his children: Joreb is the eldest and heir to the throne, with him stood his wife Silinde. Then there is Makaik, who by his own words is good at everything but finding a mate. Daiz is the second youngest and impossible. And the blondest one, still looking like he has when we first met, is Legolas. I am sorry but I do not know any of the names of the guards.”

He stood to go for he had changed his charges while speaking and they were now set for bed.
He planted chaste kisses on their heads and left.

But Elnihir could not sit still in his bed, he kept bouncing. Elvil, who was actually rather tired glared at him. “What?”
“Didn’t you hear; Legolas, he’s named after a non-existing elf. Poor one, no wonder he looked so sad. I’m going to find him”
“No you can’t. Ata will get mad.”
Elnihir grinned. “But mine won’t”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thranduil turned his glass in his hand and looked suspicious at Elrond, sitting opposite of him. He wished he would get to the point, but instead Elrond had decided to be afraid, and resort to chitchat first. After hours of talking about the weather, the relative peace and the dangers that kept lurking, Thranduil had had enough. “What is the real reason you brought me here, Peredhel? No more chitchat please.”
“No? I found it very pleasing” How was he going to tell Thranduil the truth when the elf was very likely to kill him.
Thranduil made the decision for him: “I didn’t. If we are going to finish this good vintage we’d better talk of something useful. Not chitchat.”
“Hmm, it is just we hardly have anything in common, except from our children and our wives, that is” Thranduil laughed at this comment. “And then you say we have nothing in common.” His own remark triggered a thought. “Hmm, maybe you could help me then.”

Those words nearly rocketed Elrond of his chair, but he managed to compose himself in time.
Thranduil had never asked him for anything, let alone help. He waited for the other to continue and took on his inquisitive stance.

“I am having some difficulty with Daiz and Legolas and Makaik. Daiz just won’t be serious no matter what the occasion. I remember vividly going after orcs with him, everyone just held their hearts, but Daiz joked on the poor travel conditions of those blasted creatures. I tell you, he has no serious bone in his body.
“Makaik is good at everything and really a good match, weren’t it for the fact he knew he’s perfect at everything. If I was human I would be grey now, and most of his hairs would have come from him. Sometimes I think sanity was reserved for my firstborn and my lastborn.”
Thranduil shook his head, both because he couldn’t believe he was talking like this with Elrond and because of the image his mind had formed when speaking about his sons.

“You think my children were easy? My elvenblood is the sole reason I still look like myself. And Elladan was easier then than he is now. And to think I willingly foster again. Maybe I should have my head examined? But didn’t you mention having problems with Legolas? What ails him, for we are all fond of that one.”
“He changed and not for the better. Remember the Ring Quest?”
“Of course, you send him here to tell us Gollum had escaped…”
“Was rescued”
“..and he volunteered to represent the elves at the Fellowship.”
“Which pleased me to no end”
“Pleased??? As I recall, you were about to fetch him. And you would have done that too,
hadn’t they already left.”
“Of course I was pleased. His aim is dead on accurate. I knew it would save the day and the Hobbit more than once.”
Thranduil was beginning to surprise him. “Which it did, but please explain. You have confused me here. I was always under the impression you rather had he didn’t go.”
“Aye. That’s true. Even though he’s a skilled warrior and everything he’s also my son and none knows him like I do, but now...” He trailed off, not finding the right words to voice his worries.
Suddenly Elrond understood. “You say the Quest has changed him. How?”
“He saw too much hatred and violence during it. He no longer sees the good and beauty around him.”
“But…. he looks fine.”
“That’s why it took us so long to notice it. He still wears his armoury, he hunts and kills like never before. It’s almost as if doing that reminds him of the days before the Quest. He was but a child, not an aged warrior as we were then.” Elrond knew Thranduil was referring to the Last Alliance.
“No, that cannot be it. There were children at The Last Alliance but they turned out alright. No, it must be something else. I will keep my eye on him. Perhaps I see something you missed.”
“Thanks.”

Both of them pondered the conversation. Neither understood the easiness with which those words had been spoken to one another, nor did they understand the others mellow attitude.
“Maybe, if none of us knows of a cure, you should send him to Valinor? There isn’t an illness that can’t be healed there.”
“I know. I even took the risk of mentioning it, but he just brisket it off. He hasn’t been back since, until just recently to travel here together. Besides, seeing Lániel again might even hurt more.”
“Yes, it might. But she would at least accept him, Celebrían would not accept our children anymore.” He almost wished he hadn’t spoken that thought aloud for Thranduil’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Wh…What….what are you talking about?” he gasped.
Elrond sighed. It was time for the truth. “Celebrían changed there, she wasn’t Celebrían anymore. Not even Galadriel recognized her back. You know, we were thinking of coming back here when we found out, but we couldn’t just yet.” Elrond swallowed, getting this out was hard for him and knowing he would be risking war was an even less happier thought than it was before this amicable talk. “Ehm….we…I mean, Galadriel and I, we knew that….eh…Lániel left for Valinor….ehm….we felt we couldn’t go back…..(swallow) without finding her.” He felt sweat forming on his forehead. Right now he cursed his ancestry.

Thranduil was about to explode and yell at the other elf when he saw the sweat. /He is actually afraid of telling me. Telling me what? That she passed away? She did when she left./
Pleasant as it was seeing the Half-elf wiggle he decided to give him a break. The amicability that had formed was kind of good and he didn’t want to lose that. To think they could have been friends. /No, Thranduil, do not, I repeat, do not think that/
“What do you want to tell me? You two made it back, looking like two mother geese, or so they say, so obviously you found her. You can tell me she’s dead. To us she died the moment she left. Legolas and Daiz weren’t even mature yet. And I am no mother.”
“Ehm, well, yes”

Thranduil adopted his question stance, arms folded across the chest, head slightly tilted to the right, eyes perched. Elrond stifled a chuckle for it reminded him of the times he had seen Legolas and Oropher use that exact same stance. He seriously started to believe it was hereditary and wondered if Legolas’ brothers did the same. When the gaze became piercing he blurted the truth out “She’s not dead. We found her wed.”
He closed his eyes unwilling to see the rage forming there but he opened them again in shock when he heard a mellow “I see”.

Upon seeing Elrond’s puzzled face he stood and left. “I will retire now. It was an tiresome journey and maybe we can talk some more later.” /What?! Thranduil…you moron. Stay way, remember, stay away!/
“That would be appreciated. Rest well.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After spending some time with his long time friend catching up and chatting about old times, he decided to enjoy the rest of the night with Glorfindel. Upon opening the door Erestor stiffened a chuckle for the site that greeted him was most humorous.
The fire was deciding if it wanted to go out or not which threw an eerie glow around. In that glow Glorfindel looked like a Nazgûl, or so Erestor thought, for he had never actually seen one, but those hobbits had talked about them so vividly he could imagine them pretty well.
It was a good thing their Shire now lay behind a invisible protection screen, created by the Istari. The creepy forest planted around it succeeded in keeping all others away.

Then he saw that Glorfindel had been drinking, a lot; judging by the empty bottles on the floor. And was he still holding one? He decided to ‘put’ the older elf to bed. Of course all he managed to do was waking him up.
“Hee, what do you think you are doing. Don’t touch me!”
“It’s me Erestor, you are in Imladris, this is not Gondolin. When will you do yourself a favour and stop living in the past?”
“Don’t know, tomorrow?”
“Ok, tomorrow.” Erestor knew tomorrow would always be tomorrow. He dragged the drunken elf to his feet and headed for the door, where he fortunately found Elrond’s other advisor and secretary standing, already offering a hand.

End chapter three
TBC

Note:
I do not know if indeed there were elflings at the last alliance, but it seems logical to me. It was their last attempt to stop the dark lord, so naturally every male capable of wielding a sword would have been there.

Translations:
Lúnanel is literally means time is third. I’ve shortened it from Lúnánelde. One of the few occasions where I created the name before seeing if it meant anything. But it works. She can easily be the third women in her family.
Lániel literally means beyond bee. (bees produce honey) I needed to give Thranduil’s wife a sweet name.

Chapter four The eve of the night.

The night air was filled with the smell of blossoming flowers; every single flower Imladris had could be smelt. But he did not smell anything but the burning fires in the kitchen. The cook had left the meat on and then forgotten all about it: it already smelt like it was black to the very core.
It brought back ghostly memories, thoughts he didn’t wish to think, but he was unable to stop himself and tear after tear slowly descended down his cheeks, left a wet trail on his face on their journey towards his chin, where, one by one, they made the long way down to the balustrade to form tiny adorable puddles on the yellow paint.

He neither heard nor felt another watching him. He did not even notice the other as the elf slowly walked towards him, scared to scare him. When the other was standing right next to and he still hadn’t acknowledged the other’s presence. It wasn’t until he heard a soft voice kindly informing him he had been crying. He quickly cocked his head aside and saw a little elfling standing next to him, clinging himself on the balustrade. He threw him a faint smile. “Yes I am”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been searching for hours now, in fact it had been nothing more than minutes but it seemed like hours to him, and he still hadn’t found what he was looking for. Frustrated he went back to his room. After turning a corner he saw an figure standing at the balustrade.
It looked normal but something reminded him of Elbereth’s statue.
He slowly went closer, trying real hard not to startle the other. He vividly remembered Glorfindel falling off after being startled and he didn’t want a repeater of that situation.

Standing next to the other he felt confused for not only had he been able to come this close without being detected, he was also fairly sure he still wasn’t noticed. He grabbed hold of the balustrade to heave himself up and cocked his head a little to get a better view and what he saw shocked him.
The most beautiful elf he had ever seen was crying. But why?
He would have walked away but that would be unfair to the other since he had already intruded on his privacy; maybe he just needed someone to listen? “You are crying.”

For a moment he was afraid the other would start yelling at him, but he received a ghost of a smile and an affirmation of what he was seeing. He let go of the balustrade and looked up to the other instead. “Do you want to tell me?”
“Thanks, but no. Why don’t you go to bed. What’s your name?”
“Elnihir. Are you sure? It always helps me to talk about what’s upsetting me.”
“You won’t understand”
“Neither do my ata or ata’da but it still helps to talk to them. Even talking to Glorfindel helps and he doesn’t even listen.”
“He has been getting worse, hasn’t he?”
Elnihir shrugged. “I guess. He’s been like this for as long as I remember.”
“He wasn’t so distant when I saw him last. Two hundred years ago.”
“Don’t know. I’m only 35. And don’t tell me I’m young. Elvil is younger. Ata’da says I’m res…sponsible for him.” He beamed at remembering the right word.
“Enjoy your youth while it lasts, little one. Do go to bed now, your nana must be worried”
“Nana died when I was born. What does a nana do?”

That question took Legolas aback. He remembered his own nana leaving him, new tears crept from his eyes. Elnihir assumed Legolas was crying because his mother had died and hurried to say something. “Don’t cry. My nana is happy now. With Mandos.”
“I’m sure she is. So you want to know what a nana does? I’ll answer that if you’ll walk me to your rooms.” He took Elnihir’s little hand in his and started walking, letting the little one guide him as he started talking.
“Well, a nana cares about you. She feeds you and is always there for you when you are sick, hurting or scared. She puts you to bed, tugs you in and reads you a story. No matter what you’ll do, she will always love you and support you…”
“Oh, than I have many nana’s. Lúnanel puts me to bed every day and when she has time tells me a tale and sings to us, me and Elvil. And whenever I’m hungry I can always go to cookie. She scolds everyone coming in her kitchen, but never me or Elvil. And I guess auntie Onar also fits that description.”
With that he looked up lovingly and happy for the fact he still had a nana, correction, he had nanas. But his happiness soon faded as he saw the other’s face turn gloomy. Acting instinctively he hugged the other.

The walk stopped immediately, it had to for Elnihir was too small to reach higher than the other’s legs when he hugged. When he pulled back he saw surprise and confusion staring back at him.
“A hug always cheers me up. You started crying again. Not because of my nana, is it?”
He received another faint smile. He wondered if the other knew how to smile at all, but he thought he must, for it was a smile nonetheless. Uncle Elladan never smiled at all.
“No, not your nana.”
“Another’s nana?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
Dodging tuestuestion Legolas asked one of his own “Who is Onar?”
“Onardodya. She found Elvil and brought him here. But she is in her town now. Her mommy is ill. Dying she called it.”
“But elves don’t get sick”
“Onar is human. But the sweetest one there is. Elvil’s nana.”
For a while the earlier question went forgotten, but if Legolas thought he was of the hook, he was wrong. “Who’s nana?”
“Mine, ok.” Again the arms came around his legs and he felt himself catapulted towards the wall. The eyes stared at him in wonder and hope. He could only guess for the reasons, but decided to explain. “My mother sailed for Valinor when I was as old as you are now. I nearly died looking for her. Ata had send his best trackers following me. Valthroman found me and took me here so Lord Elrond could heal me. He begged me to keep that a secret from my ata.”
Now why did he just tell the boy that, now his ata would find out, no one could be trusted, but he was so little, so innocent, surely he wouldn’t /he would, because you know he can./ his mind countered. But then the elfling put his finger to his lips and started blowing, making a sissing sound. In spite of himself he had to laugh at the sight.

“This is my rooms, Want to meet Elvil? He’s really nice and listens too, but he babbles a lot and doesn’t know when to shut up.”
“No that’s ok. Sleep well Elnihir I see you some other time perhaps. Goodbye.”
“How?”
“How what?”
“Will I find you? I’m no good at descriptions”
“My name is Legolas of Mirkwood.” After he had turned the corridor he heard a loud scream, followed by “Me good” repeated over and over. /Now what was that all about?/

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After having reached Glorfindel’s room the passed out drunk had been laid in a comfortable position and then left in the good care of Erestor, who knew jusw tow to handle him upon awakening.
The other two left and sped down the corridor.

His colleague soon excused himself and went away. But he knew where the man was headed: towards the guest quarters, in search of a certain Mirkwood guard. But he kept that silent, otherwise Sealbeth would never speak to him again, and he was his only friend.
Thanks to him he not made a complete fool out of himself yet, while there were numerous of occasions when that could have become reality. He shivered by the thought of not having Sealbeth around anymore.
Thinking along these lines, from time to time calling himself a fool he passed by the room assigned to Mirkwood’s crown prince and his wife. He thought he could hear slight conversation going on and the mention of his lord’s name made him stop and lean in to listen.
All he further heard was :
“ Let’s not talk about that now, beloved. Let us sleep. The journey had been tiresome and tomorrow, I feel, will be no different.”
“Yes, but still I worry. Ata and Lord Elrond never really got along and now…I don’t know…Maybe we should…”
“Nothing! Stop it Joreb. You are not helping us sleep. Hmmm, mayhap this will silence you?”
A lingering kiss could be heard.
Melpomean quickly moved forward again. He did not want to listen in on others making out.

He took the left turn which would lead him quickly to his room knowing it led him past Lord Elrond’s study which was ajar. His suspicion and curiosity were roused for that was not normal. Surely his lord would not still be working? But he did not move an inch, for if that wasn’t the case, he would be invading the others privacy and that was out of the question.

Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he risked to look inside. What he saw startled him.
There were three empty bottles of wine scattered over the floor accompanied by most of the paperwork that needed attention. High volumes of variable reading were drawn from their shelves and casually thrown around the place. Every decoration grabbed from the walls, the tearing visible on the points where the huge and heavy carpets were once attached to the walls. He blinked his eyes a couple of times just to see if the image would disappear. But unfortunately it didn’t.
He sighed.
He better clean now or get up early tomorrow, in order to have most stuff gone by the time Elrond would wake. He was sure it was the youngsters doing; when they started throwing tantrums together, anything could happen. And anything did happen in here. But nothing prepared him for the sight that was in store for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now who was that knocking on his door? Couldn’t they just let him sleep. How inattentive of them to wake him at such an hour. He pretended not to have heard and turned to his other side. But the knocking continued.
It was the most annoying knock ever invented by an Elf, Dwarf or any other creature, he was sure. Although it was soft it had a continues stream; knock, two seconds of silence, knock, two seconds of silence, knock… It was driving him mad. Whoever stood on the other side of the woodwork that was his door was in serious trouble of losing one or more body parts.
Growling he untangled himself from the clammy sheets, even at wintertime, when the snow was knee-high, he still had clammy sheets.

ing ing he made his way over to the door and opened it without warning. He glared at the other Elf.
“Hi there Mellon-nîn, did I wake you? Oh, I am sorry for that, I thought you would be awake.”
“You’ve been hammering for half an hour now”
“Really, well, you were awake then, otherwise you couldn’t have timed me. But seriously, is there not somewhere nice I can go to?”
“Try Mordor.”
“Really Elladan, I want to have some fun, I tried to find Elrohir to show me around, but he is seemingly lost. Wanna come? Come on, have some fun with me.”
Elladan didn’t seem to have much of a choice for he got dragged along and was already one floor down before his sleepy mind noticed. He suddenly removed his wrist for the other’s hold. “Daiz!!!!! Go kill some orcs but don’t annoy me. Goodnight!” He turned and left.
“But Elladan. To do that I’d have to go to Mordor. They don’t come here anymore, you
know.”
“I’m sure dad has a map.”
“Elladan…”
“Goodnight!!”
Daiz shrugged his shoulders and went to his rooms, guess he would turn in early then. It would probably result in ata getting out the healer-parade. He smirked at the thought and was asleep amazingly fast. He figured he was the last one in anyway, so his reputation still stood.

But that was where he was wrong. One Elf was still awake. Awake and hopelessly lost.

End chapter four
TBC

Note:
Elvil may be 35 years of age but he is very small for his age. He doesn’t come above someone else’s waist. (A dwarf amongst the elves so to say)

Translation:
Mellon-nîn means my friend in Sindarin. I thought it would be more appropriate for Daiz to speak Sindarin in the middle of the night, considering he is a Sindar elf.

Chapter five Clearly too much

He carefully entered the room, afraid the hooligans might not have left yet and were now admiring their handiwork. He held his breath and listened for another’s breath but heard none.
He released a relieved sigh. He didn’t know what he would have done had he actually heard someone else.
Yes, he did. He would have fled and run to his Lord, who was capable of handling every situation. He was, after all, the most powerful Elf alive. He smiled as he fondly thought of his Lord.

Then he felt it was time to start cleaning or he would never be finished in time.
He bent to pick up the bottles first and put them in a corner. Kneeling to start on the paperwork, he changed his mind and replaced the bottles outside the room, so he couldn’t accidentally knock them over and make more of a mess. It would be just like him to add shelves of glass to the destruction.
He swept the paper together only to find out it would take hours to get them into proper order else Elrond would still notice. And most were still missing. Looking at the desk he found none there. He decided to arrange these first, then the others would be easier to add.
He sat down at the desk in the chair normally occupied by his Lord. He nearly slid right off because it was too big for him. He was very slim, even for an elf, and Elrond was Half-Elf, so broader than most elves. And the chair was made of very slickery material which didn’t help him get comfortable at all.
But somehow he managed to stay on the chair and organize the paperwork. He hoped he had gotten everything right. He carefully put the pile in the centre of the desk. No good wasting all his work, just to risk it spilling on the floor again.

He now headed for the tapestries. Looking at the ‘hands’ that used to hold them, he saw it would take skilled people to repair that damage. So rolling them up was the best solution. He started on the smaller ones. Each one revealed a really scary mess of dust, plasterwork and papers.
Melpomean first took care of the papers and added them to the pile. Next he carefully collected the dust and plasterwork and swept it out of the room. The maids would take care of the rest. He repeated the procedure with the other two small tapestries.

Now there was only one big and very heavy tapestry left. It normally would take three to roll that one up, but he was all alone. Well, he just had to give up some more sleep. When he pushed the left side the thing released a moan.
Startled he jumped back, fear evident in his eyes.

He had already made it halfway to the door before a thought hit him. What if it weren’t the little ones that did this, but thieves had been active here? He turned around and around almost expecting the thief to stand behind him.
It could have been a fight. Yes, he was now fairly sure that it had been thieves who had been fought down. And that moan must have belonged to the last thief, overlooked in the haste.
Panic overtook him.
Just being near a dangerous creature filled him with fear and he had been in some creature’s vicinity for more than hours. He grabbed the walls for support. He wanted to run away to get help but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. He tried to scream, Elrond’s bedroom was close and the Lord was a very skilled warrior and, no less important, a light sleeper. But his voice had suddenly failed him too.

He forced himself to calm down but nearly panicked again when the tapestry started moving and moaning in earnest. He felt utterly, hopelessly alone and lost. He didn’t know what to do. How he wished Elrond would magically appear behind him, but of course he didn’t, no one did.
A hand appeared from inside the tapestry’s darkness and in a daze of fear he grabbed the first thing he felt, ran towards the object and hit where he supposed the thief’s head should be. That movement caused the tapestry to roll out and he gasped in horror.
Before him and with a bleeding head wound lay not a thief but his own Lord. He had hit his Lord over the head with…with what? He looked at his hand and saw he was holding a candleholder. Did he kill Elrond?
Quickly he knelt down and checked for life signs. He released the air he had been holding in fear, finding the half-elf alive. Of course, he told himself, Elrond can survive anything. And the tapestry took the force from the blow. He saw the head wound wasn’t big at all, a mere scratch. But then why was it bleeding so?

He gasped yet again, this night turned out to be an adrenaline-kick for him and he sure could do without. To his shock he saw another bottle in the other elf’s hand. It took time before he could add the pieces together, but eventually he did and came to the conclusion his Lord had been drinking and in his drunken state made the mess himself.
He did not want to go over the options of how Elrond had ended up rolled up in a tapestry. He looked at his Lord, he could not be comfortable, sleeping like that, sprawled about in an ungraceful way, half on the tapestry and half off it.

He should leave now and get some sleep, but he just couldn’t leave him like this. He went to get some water and then sat down next to his Lord. Gathering the drunken heap in his arms he dapped the forehead to get rid of the dirt, sweat and blood. He realised he had to bandage the wound for now. He saw no cloth that could be used and the healing house was to far away. Biting his lip he tore of pieces of his rope to use as bandages.
When all that was done he cradled the other and started manhandling him until they were both in comfortable positions. Him resting his back to the wall and Elrond in his arms.
He indulged himself and petted the other’s cheek and started singing an ancient lullaby, as he would to an elfling. He silently thanked the Valar his Lord was asleep, so he could not hear his miserable attempt at singing.
This time he did not need Sealbeth to stop himself from making a fool of himself. The alcohol had taken care of that. But wasn’t that the sole reason he was in this situation? Before he could ponder it any further he noticed he still had to put the books on their respective shelves.
He waited until the song was finished.

Slowly and carefully, so not to awaken his Lord, he came out form underneath him and went back to work. Two hours later all was taken care of, except for what needed a skilled handyman. Making sure there was enough water within his Lord’s reach, he silently closed the door and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knew he should have gone to bed the moment Thranduil had left. But the talk had brought back unpleasant memories. Memories of Valinor.
He opened bottle after bottle dealing with them. He should never heave left Imladris in the first place. Then he could still be happy. Happy. He laughed a bitter laugh. How can he be happy waiting to be reunited only to find out that was no longer an option. He has wasted so many years waiting for his time to move to Valinor and now…
He started sobbing now as he thought of his loneliness both here and in Valinor.

At least here he had his sons to keep him company. He did not fool himself into thinking there was any other reason behind their choice to become an elf other than to keep him company.
And that was it. He had nothing besides his children.
No that wasn’t true. He was a very skilled healer. /Ha, nothing another couldn’t do/ he grimly thought.
And didn’t people call to him when in need of an answer? The lore master they called him. But what company could a book provide? None. These books only reminded him he had spend most his life alone in vain. Awaiting his kill, or so it now seemed.
He took out his frustration and anger at the innocent objects and took most of them, not so kindly, from their selves. Panting he watched the books lay around across the room. “ha serves you right! You took my life, my love, my everything away”

He downed the remainder of the latest bottle. The more he thought, the more gloomy he became and the more he drank. In the end he had emptied the fourth bottle and was now working on the fifth, already staggering on his feet.
He tripped over the papers that lay scattering around the floor, having been thrown of the desk in one angry sweep of the Lord of Imladris. He ungraciously went down, face first. Looking around he saw only mockery staring back at him, laughing at his expense.
After some attempts to get to his feet again he finally succeeded and he launched at the laughing faces. Never once did he realise he was tearing down the tapestries from the wall, not until he went for the biggest one. After successfully ripping it from the wall, he went backwards to avoid the falling object, but tripped over one of the books and fell. He ended up on top of the tapestry.

Sleep overwhelmed him and he tried to crawl onto his feet in order to make it to his bed. But his limbs were not listening to his brain and after a few clumsy attempts he noticed he had only managed to get himself rolled up inside what he thought was a rug. Sleep claimed him; a heavy, dreamless sleep. After being asleep for a while, could be a week, could be a minute, he did not know and did not care, something invaded his senses.
A headache registered. He moaned.
/Go back to darkness/ he told himself. But then he noticed it was completely dark where he was. That fact mystified him and he groaned out loud. /I should try and get out of here, whatever here is./
He started moving, slowly as not to add to the pain in his heavily aching head. Then suddenly darkness claimed him again. But he did not wish this, how…just then the blow he was dealt earlier registered in his foggy brain. “Auch”

He should pass out but he didn’t, knowing he might be in lethal danger if he did. Just then light entered his view. He closed his eyes against the sudden brightness. He could hear another breathing and would have dealt a blow of himself had his senses given him a clear position of his target. But as it was all he knew was that he wasn’t alone. He could not get a clear reading on his inner radar either. Was there even another or were his senses deluding him? He tried to sharpen his hearing, but heard nothing.
Just when he started questioning his own abilities he felt something being removed from his right hand. Had he been holding something? But what?

Trying to focus and remember he now felt how he was being washed. That totally surprised him. He decided that where ever he was and with whomever he was, he was not in danger, yet.
He feigned sleep to figure out where he was and who was cleansing him. He noticed how the cloth stayed on his face and hair. He suffered a blow to the head, by them, but he had already had a headache when that occurred. He must have been slain in battle.
All of a sudden he was being dragged over to…to…to where?... Must be a bed or something for he was put in a very comfortable position. But someone was still here, holding him, petting him. Should he peek or not?

Before he could make up his mind he heard a distant song, sung in a sweet voice. He focused on it and it came closer. He now could hear the honeyed melody in which the soft voice sang.
It filled his soul with happiness. /Such a enchanting voice can only belong to one of the Valar./ Maybe it was their way of apologizing to him. He felt himself relax and drifting away on the voice as sleep claimed him once more.

End chapter five
TBC