Thought You Were History

By Orchyd Constyne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thranduil.

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

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

"King Thranduil. Welcome to Imladris."

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

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

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

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

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

He envied Elrond and the close family he had.

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My Lord?"

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

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

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

The blonde Elda nodded and smiled at Elrond. He stood and extended his hand, offering silent support, which the dark-haired Elf happily accepted. Glorfindel had always been there for him and his family over the last two thousand or so years, having been added to the Peredhil household shortly after Arwen's birth. Erestor had long been part of the family. He had followed Elrond from Lindon so long ago, had fought with him in the Last Alliance, and had remained true to him throughout the years.

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elladan laughed. "Blueberry preserves!"

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he simply nodded.

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And Erestor knew?"

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dark-haired Noldo Elf navigated the halls with the ease of many millennia supervising the household. He had come with Elrond from Lindon to start the refuge and had always been his Chief Councilor. Glorfindel had joined them not long after the beginning of the Third Age and had immediately found a loving place in the small circle that Elrond considered family.

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

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

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

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

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

"Is something wrong, Erestor?"

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

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

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

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

"Time? Time for what?"

"To mend old wounds, mellon-nîn."

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

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

*****

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

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

Elrond was in one of his deep red robes, with golden vines and grapes embossed in various areas. His appearance was much the same as ever, his hair pulled back softly and his mithril circlet adorning his head. Erestor was speaking to him in soft tones about the twins and their enthusiasm with the She-Elves of the party, each dancing until breathless and then taking small respites only to begin again within moments.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then he was gone from the room.

*****

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

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

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

"Elrond?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why did you?"

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

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

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

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

He hated Thranduil, no matter what Erestor thought.

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Could you not sleep, meldir?"

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

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

Glorfindel listened to the story, feeling honored that Elrond trusted him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Even with Vilya, I did not wish to rule Imladris. I just wanted to fade. But, Erestor did not allow me to. He held me here, loved me. He shared my bed and my life for almost a century. I am sure it was hard for him, knowing I could never love him as he wanted me to. When Celeborn came to me with an alliance offer if I wed his daughter, Erestor urged me to accept. I did. From then until now, you know the story. You have lived with us and been a part of our family since that time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thranduil needed to be taught a lesson.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My Lord?" was the muffled reply.

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

"I have wronged you, meldir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Aye, he did feel better now.

*****

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

"Can we help you, King Thranduil?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I was going to."

"When?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I saw what I saw, Elrond!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Elrond? What exactly just happened, and what does it mean?" Elrond did not hesitate to answer. "What just happened was our relationship returning from the Halls of Waiting. And it means we have a very long talk ahead of us."

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

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

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

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

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

"Three seasons will pass quickly, meleth."

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

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

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

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