Title & Chapter Number: The Color of Love Trilogy 1: Thought You Were History 1/2
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Hith a Naur
Fandom: Tolkien
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: No money, no suey
Warnings: None
Betas: Silvara, the most wonderful beta in existence
Cast: Elrond/Thranduil, Elrond/Erestor implied
Timeline: Winter of 2510 TA
Spoilers: None
Summary: After Celebrian sets sail, Elrond recalls times when he was with the one he loved before the Last Alliance which drove them apart.
Notes: This came to me, actually, while listening to Celine Dion's "It's All Coming Back to Me Now" -- it is the first in a trilogy. Each based on a song I heard that brought about the story.
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 Peredhil 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 Peredhil'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. "No, 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.
Yes, 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. Yes. Lovely. So, yes, 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. "Yes, 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 Peredhil 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 Peredhil. 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 Peredhil. 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?"
"Yes, 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.
"Yes, 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?"
"Yes. 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, brūnmellon-nīn."
~*~*~*~
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 Peredhil, 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. "No. 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-nīn."
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.
"Yes, 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.
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