Things Unsaid

Summary: none given

~~~

The three elves watched the solitary grey ship sail away towards the setting sun.�

"What did she say to you, my Lord?" one asked, his shimmering golden hair fluttering in the light breeze.�

"Glorfindel�" another said warningly.�

"No, Erestor. It's alright," the last said.� He leaned heavily upon the arm of the blond elf. "She told me not to let our vows prevent me from� from moving on. She said�" he stopped. His companions observed him with obvious concern.�

Finally he straightened and continued, tears falling unchecked down his ashen cheeks. "She said love would come to me again, but� but�"he sobbed."I cannot see�"�

The elf crumpled in a faint, his friends catching him as he fell.�
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*� *� *� *� *� Many years later���
�
�

"Valar!" Imladris' newest resident exclaimed reverently, leaning back in his saddle, his lavender eyes wide with awe.� "It's incredible!"�

Glorfindel brought his horse up alongside his charge's and smiled at the younger elf's amazement upon seeing the Hidden Valley for the first time. He recalled that his own first sight of Imladris had elicited the same reaction.� The Elda looked at the length of the shadows, and motioned for Asfaloth to continue. "Come on. You can look at the pretty view later. If we keep up, we can make it for dinner."�

"Oh. Good." His enthusiasm was apparent. They trotted down the path and through the open gates.�

Glorfindel turned in the saddle and looked back at his companion. "This is your first trip outside of L�rien?"�

"Aye."�

"And how old are you, exactly?"�

"I am seventy years past my majority�just as old as the last time you asked, and the time before, and the time before that," he repeated pointedly.� �

"You just look so young."� Strange for a L�rien elf to be so open and enthusiastic�not that Glorfindel was complaining.� He'd quite enjoyed the constantly bright and gentle smiles he'd been given over the weeks of their journey.�

"Well�look what the cat dragged in," a sardonic voice observed from the top of the stairs.� Glorfindel looked up and beamed. "Erestor!"� Leaping from his horse, he met the dark-haired elf at the foot of the stairs. "You old curmudgeon!"�

Erestor tolerated Glorfindel's embrace and responded, "You're just as old as I am."�

"Not if you take into account my brand spankin' new body!"�

"Ugh. Don't do that."�

"Do what?"�

"Say anything referring to you and spanking. It's just wrong. Besides, it�s been an Age, at least."�

"I see someone's been counting."�

Erestor rolled his eyes.� Throughout their bickering, the other elf present had silently slid from his horse and slung his bag over his shoulder, a small smile curving his lips as he watched their apparently friendly banter.� �

"And this is the requested Melpomaen," Glorfindel introduced, beckoning him closer.�

Melpomaen approached Erestor and bowed. "My Lord." �

"Good eve. Glorfindel, are you robbing cradles in L�rien now?"�

"Huh?" The warrior had been distracted, listening to the singing coming from the Hall.�

"How old are you?" Erestor demanded of Melpomaen, who answered with a grimace.�

"I am seventy years past my majority, and I am quite good at my job, my Lord."�

"Oh. My apologies. You just look so�"�

"�look so young, yes. I know. I get that all the time."� Melpomaen finished with a wry smile.�

"Don't expect it to change. Elves here are a good deal less subtle than those in L�rien."�

"I'm sure I'll adapt."�

"You can leave your bag here; someone will take it to your rooms," Erestor said, leading them up the stairs and into the House. "You can get the full tour later, but I expect you're hungry after the journey."�

"He's not the only one," Glorfindel added.�

"When are you ever not hungry?"�

"Good point, Councilor.� Here's the most important room in all of Imladris, Mel�the Hall of Fire, wherein there is always food, dancing, drink, song and inexhaustible amounts of fun to be had and enjoyed."�

"He would spend all of his time here, if he could," Erestor smirked to Melpomaen.� �

"Yes, all they need is a practice arena here, and it would be perfect!" With an answering smirk to Erestor, Glorfindel threw open the doors and cried out, "All, rejoice! For I have returned! Again!"�

The elves in the Hall cheered and raised their glasses. Several warriors stood and surrounded the reborn hero, clapping him on the back.�

In the commotion, Erestor caught Melpomaen by the elbow and led him along the side of the room.� "He'll take the attention off of you for now. We can present you to Imladris later, after you've met Lord Elrond."�

"As you see fit, my Lord."�

"Call me Erestor."�

"As you see fit, Erestor."�

Erestor stopped and looked at his companion with a raised eyebrow. "You're going to keep me on my toes, aren't you?"�

Melpomaen grinned, "Absolutely."�

They had approached a table in the corner of the room.� Seated there were two elves, deep in conversation.� �

"My Lords," Erestor interrupted them, "this is Melpomaen, the new scribe from L�rien. Melpomaen, this is Lord Elladan," he indicated the sharp-eyed elf on the right, whose feet were resting on the chair next to him, "and this is our Lord Elrond."�

Elrond, dressed casually in red and gold, stood and extended his hand to Melpomaen, who stood mute and still for a moment before recovering, and reaching for the proffered hand. The skin was smooth and warm, and his eyes traveled up the arm, took in the shape under the tunic and looked finally into the deep grey eyes.� Melpomaen felt heat rush to his face and his stomach fluttered.�

Elrond smiled kindly, the good humor apparent in his eyes. "Well met, Melpomaen. On behalf of Imladris, I welcome you."�

Melpomaen struggled to find his voice and, praying it wouldn't break, responded, "Thank you, my Lord.� I am quite happy to be here."�

Elladan took his boots off the chair and dusted imaginary dirt from the upholstery. "Sit down, Melpomaen.� Help yourself."�

"Thank you, my Lord."�

"Elladan.� How old are you, anyways?"�

Erestor snorted.�
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*� *� *� *� *�
�

The room Elladan escorted him to was a good deal bigger than his humble talan back in L�rien.� When Melpomaen commented on this, Elladan laughed.�

"Yes� we like spoiling our guests. It's especially fun to do it to L�rien elves� they expect all the perks, but always try to be so humble and reserved� it's great fun to try to fluster them. You however�" Elladan considered Melpomaen, who returned his thoughtful glance with a raised eyebrow. "You, I think, will require more ingenuity."�

"It seems I should have heeded the warnings I was given concerning the mischievous nature of Imladris' princes," Melpomaen said archly, taking any snideness from his words with a grin.�

"Oh, just wait until you meet my brother.� He hasn't half the restrain that I have."�

"Oh, Havens help me."�

The half-elf looked around the room, and said expansively, "Right then. I'll leave you to it.� Breakfast is served at sun up, and cold stuff stays out until lunch. Come over to the library whenever you feel like it."�

"No schedule?"�

"Here? You must be joking." Elladan smiled brightly and bowed. "Pleasant evening."�

"Pleasant evening."� As soon as the door closed on the exiting prince, Mel let out a deep breath.� Great Eru, this place and these elves took a lot of energy.� But Imladris was so much more fun than L�rien, where everything was so stilted and formal and� just stifling.� Getting used to the laid-back nature of Imladris would be a challenge, but certainly a welcome one.�

Speaking of challenges� Mel unconsciously bit his lower lip, thinking about the unexpected challenge he'd found here.� As relaxed as these elves were, he was fairly certain that it was not good form to lust after their ruler, an elf he had met for all of five minutes.� He chuckled at himself. It was such a 'him' thing to do, too. His wardens had always called him presumptuous, too single-minded and insolent. He preferred to think of himself as forthright and honest.� Of his three 'brothers', it was R�mil who had the most patience with him, and Orophin the least. Haldir�well� Haldir wasn't around much, and when he was, he sided with Orophin, admonishing Mel to stay still and be mature about things.�

R�mil was decidedly more sympathetic, and it was he who suggested that he take up the offer to move to Imladris.�

"Trust me," he had said. "You'll be much happier there."� �

He'd said no more, and after yet another lecture from Orophin about 'proper L�rien etiquette' and how no one could understand why Melpomaen insisted on behaving like a human child�yes, even L�rien elflings had better sense and decorum that he did�Melpomaen had made up his mind, sought out Glorfindel and accepted the scribe's position in Imladris. The next morning, they had gone.�

Disrobing, he idly wondered how exactly his services would be utilized. He'd been working as a scribe under Lord Celeborn since before his majority, and he was praised often (the only praise he ever got in L�rien) for the artistry of his lettering.� He never really knew what the fuss was about; it was just writing.� Glorfindel had told him on the journey that a scribe had left the Library's service after she'd married a weaver and had been enchanted by the art, and now sought to learn it for herself.�

Imagine! Changing one's life path. It would never happen in L�rien��

He laughed at himself, pulling back the covers and tossing himself onto the bed, bouncing.� Clearly he was going to have to stop comparing Imladris to his old home.� Stretching, he rubbed absently at the inside of his thighs, sore from the weeks of riding, and his mind wandered back to his meeting with Lord Elrond.�

Hardly a meeting, really. An introduction. The elf-lord had only stayed at their table for a few minutes before rising and walking among the other tables.� Mel had been very focused on his food�another plus on the Imladris side; their food was fantastic�but he did notice how the elf's well-tailored tunic had stretched briefly (oh, too briefly!) over pectorals, and how very graceful Elrond was. He felt a little happy glow inside, and tried to grimace, but ended up smiling instead.� Yep. He was smitten.�

Then he did frown. Had he just thought of his new lord as Elrond, instead of Lord Elrond?�

Oh, dear.� Must be careful about this.� Honestly, only six hours in a place� Mel's stomach fluttered and tensed again and he concentrated on relaxing. So, he had a crush. It might go away.�

'Nothing to do but wait and see what tomorrow will bring,' he thought, relaxing into reverie.�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

Tomorrow brought a full tour of Imladris, courtesy of Elladan, who actually turned out to be Elrohir, and then became Elladan again, until Mel finally realized that the two twins were switching places on him and waiting to see how long it would take him to notice.� Encouraged by Mel's good humor ("When the head Marchwarden was here, it was awful.� The elf just couldn't take a joke," Elrohir lamented. Mel was not surprised.), they ran by the busy kitchens and took a picnic lunch to the artisan's quarter.�

"Did you only do scribing in L�rien?" Elrohir asked.�

"Aye," Mel answered, watching curiously as Elladan leaned over an old wine barrel now potted with flowers and carefully picked a handful of flowers.�

"Really?� You must be very good. Most elves here have two disciplines that they pursue�for example, both Elladan and I are warriors, but I am also a healer." Elrohir put out a hand to stop Mel, and indicated that he should watch Elladan, who had spring up ahead.�

"And what else does Elladan do?" Mel asked, seeing the elf in question disappear within a silversmithy.�

Elrohir smirked. "He plays the love-sick puppy. He's quite good."�

"I heard that!"�

That moment, Elladan came out of the shop, his arm around the waist of an elfmaid, lovely despite the tendrils of hair hanging from her face in sweaty ringlets and the smears of ash on her leather smock. "Mel, this is Glauriel; Glauriel, meet Melpomaen, fresh from L�rien."�

"They're betrothed�they just won't admit it yet," Elrohir whispered loudly.� He got matching glares in return.�

"To answer your question, Mel," Elladan said, "Glauriel is teaching me silversmithing."�

"He's better at being a little loverboy."�

"Any idea what you'll want to pursue here?" Glauriel asked politely.�

"What? No," Mel said. 'Who�..yes,' he thought.� �

"Well, you'll have to think of something. Working all the time under the thumb of Erestor and Father would drive any elf mad."�

"So I am to be working under�um, with Elrond?" Mel asked casually.�

"No one has told you?" Elrohir asked. "Miriel was Father's personal secretary, so you will share your time with Father and with Erestor, as she assisted him as well."�

"Oh." Working with Elrond. Every day. This would be very good or very bad.�

Either way, there was always a third elven kingdom to flee to if things went terribly wrong in Imladris. �

*�� *�� *�� *�� *�

Melpomaen quickly settled into a routine in his new home.� In the mornings he would walk with one of the twins, either to the artisan's quarter or to the healing wing of the House, talking about all manner of things. In the afternoon he would go to the Library and work. It took time for him to learn where everything was and how to use the catalog system Imladris employed (once he got the hang of it, it was much more convenient than the 'wander aimlessly in the library talans until you found what you wanted' system that they used in L�rien).� In the beginning he didn't see much of Elrond�Erestor explained that he was "busy with an Elf-Lord ruler thing, but never fear. There's plenty for you to do."�

Several tomes formerly thought lost from history forever had been found and obtained from human traders, who had no idea what they were carrying.� Books of� lost history, including artistic works of poetry and stories from Numenor were among the bounty. Unfortunately, the books had been penned in the 10 year period when it was the fashion to write very abstract and ornamented letters, as though the elevated language should only be read by someone who had the time and talent to figure out what on earth the words were.� Even the elves who, being immortal, had a great deal of patience for such things, put an end to the practice.� Unfortunately, the books were in a terrible state of disrepair, many of them about to fall apart. They would have to be recopied to preserve the knowledge.� There was the difficulty, however, that almost no one had the skill to transliterate the mess.�

As it happened, Melpomaen did.�

"Well," Mel said to Erestor, looking briefly over a complex knot of loops and spirals that, if one looked hard enough, said, Of Harpistry and Harmonics, "this is a curiously happy coincidence for you."�

"No kidding."�

"Was that a rhetorical observation, or an admonition?" Glorfindel said, sticking his head into Mel and Erestor's shared office.� His hair was in wild disarray, and his flushed face gleamed with sweat.�

"Take a bath before you come in here," Erestor said flatly.�

"Or what?"�

"Or I'll make you help Mel with this."�

Glorfindel ignored him. "With what?" he asked.�

"Transcribing, transliteration and all that good scholarly stuff with which you never seem to acquaint yourself," Mel said with a wink and smile for the warrior.�

"Ooooo-kay. If you can talk like that without tripping over yourself, then you have clearly spent too much time with him," Glorfindel exclaimed. "You have to come out and train sometime."�

Mel laughed nervously. "I fear I would be as inept with a sword as�"�

"�as you are with a quill," Erestor interrupted smoothly, with an arch look at Glorfindel.�

"Fancy that!" the warrior exclaimed, with a leering smirk.� "I've never heard any complaints about my skills with my quill before!"�

"OUT!"�

*� *� *� *� *�

So Melpomaen spent his afternoons and some of his evenings in the spacious library, carefully transliterating the complicated old scripts into modern elvish and westron. After he was done with each book, he would get new parchment and re-write what he had transliterated.� Once the text had been copied in both languages, he would send the manuscript for the book-binders to work their magic. Such was the skill of Imladris' artisans that when completed, the books would never again succumb to water or age damage, the pages would repel creasing and stains, and they would forevermore look like new.�

Melpomaen was having the time of his life.� In order to properly transliterate�although at times it was more like actual translating, the words were so archaic�he had to understand what he was reading, and the poetry and stories and histories were quite fascinating. Oftentimes the day would pass unnoticed, and he would work through dinner if someone (usually one of the twins) didn't remind him.�

One such evening, he was carefully writing out an elegant poem concerning 'things unsaid'�whatever the poet meant by that; this poem was irritatingly dense--, and he gradually became aware of a presence in the room with him.� Since no voice jolted him from his work, he assumed it was another one of the library's scribes and continued writing, ignoring everything else, until he was interrupted��

"It is unusual for one so young to prefer tomes to song and dance in the Hall," Elrond said, smiling down at the scribe.�

Mel stilled his hand and looked up, dropping the quill in surprise.�

Elrond deftly caught it before it could ruin Mel's work, and returned the quill to him.� Mel put it safely in the inkwell, noting that Elrond's hands, like that first night, were warm.� �

"I apologize, my Lord. I did not realize it was you."�

Elrond laughed, a rich warm sound.� "No apologies are necessary.� I saw the light here, and wanted to see who was still here. You do not find your work tiresome?"�

"No, my Lord, not at all. It's quite relaxing actually. Like piecing together a puzzle, only with words.� All of this is beautiful, almost magical," Mel blurted before he could stop himself. 'Almost magical? Valar help me.'�

Elrond seemed to take no notice of his clumsy words.� "I am glad to hear that.� When I heard of the task Erestor had set you to, I was worried that you would flee back to L�rien."�

"Not a chance, my Lord," Mel said flatly, prompting Elrond to raise an eyebrow inquisitively.� Mel coughed, and stammered, "I� I mean�"�

"It's alright. My wife never enjoyed all their ceremony and stilted ways either, and she was raised with them. You are happier here, I take it?"�

"Yes, my Lord. Much."�

"Please call me Elrond. You won't be demoted here for not observing all the rules of rank and whatnot."�

Mel smiled. And there was that annoying little stomach flutter again� �

"So. Dinner?" A new voice broke his thoughts. Elladan. Mel wasn't sure whether to be relieved or upset at the interruption.�

"Soon." Elrond looked expectantly at Melpomaen, whose face flushed.�

"I� I just need to clean this�" he stammered, busying his suddenly sweating hands with cleaning the quill. Relief. Definitely relief.�

"We�ll meet you there. Come on, Dad."�

Mel was absurdly grateful for Elladan's clumsy interference.� He watched Elrond and his son leave, watching the sway of Elrond's robes and how his braided hair hung right at the middle of his back��

He sighed. Fantastic. The first time he'd seen the object of his crush since the first time he'd ever seen him, and he was acting like one of the characters in the poems he'd been re-writing.� 'Oh, I didn't know it was you� oh, it's so relaxing� Oh, it's magical,' he thought mockingly to himself.� �

"Stupid pastoral poetry," he muttered, extinguishing the lamp and leaving the room.�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

He saw more of Elrond from then on. The elf-lord sat at his desk by a window, next to and slightly behind the one Mel used for his transcribing.� Every other page or so, Mel would look up from his work and sneak a peek over at Elrond, who would either be reading or writing, seemingly oblivious to all but his work, so Mel would, with an almost silent sigh of wistfulness, go back to his own.�

Elrond, however, was not nearly as oblivious or engrossed in whatever he was supposed to be doing as Melpomaen assumed.� Every so often he would look up and watch Melpomaen work, watch the steady hand, watch the careful violet eyes scanning the texts in front of him, watch how the pink tip of the elf's tongue would peek out from between even, white teeth when he was concentrating the most.� Then he would seem to realize that he was staring, and went back to his work, as Melpomaen was apparently doing.�

This went on for years, the two of them seemingly content to maintain the status quo, for whatever reasons of their own.�

One time Elrond was gazing unconsciously at Melpomaen when Erestor blocked his view.� He blinked, and looked up into his friend's knowing eyes. His face warmed. �

"Is there something I can do for you?" he asked quietly.�

Erestor raised an eyebrow pointedly, and said, "For me, my Lord? No, nothing at all." Then he left.�

Elrond watched him go, gave himself a mental whack upside the head, and went back to work.�
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*� *� *� *� *�
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"Guess who's oogling whom?" Erestor baited Glorfindel, who had joined him for a cup of tea one evening.�

"Mel and Elrond," the warrior said without pausing, settling back in his chair to regard his companion.�

Erestor blinked. "If it's so obvious that you noticed, then everyone must know by now."�

"Mm-hmm." Glorfindel ignored the friendly insult.� "Everyone does."�

"Except them."�

"They're even worse than you were."�

Erestor shrugged. "What can I say?� I'm usually doing the courting, not being courted."�

"Yes�" Glorfindel drawled, understating, "you do tend to be direct when there's something you want."�

"Whereas you wheel and prevaricate and�"�

"Enough," Glorfindel laughed.� "What do we do about it?"�

"The twins are accepting enough of the match."�

"They have said as much?"�

"They're going out of their way to put them in the same room together, not trying to drive Mel away."�

"Good point.� Not like that she-elf who was so enamored of Elrohir," Glorfindel recalled with a grin.�

"The one who woke up with a Mohawk or the one who found herself colored blue?"�

"The blue girl. I'd forgotten about 'Dan's little head shaving stunt."�

They sipped their tea in silence for a time.�

"If we tell Elrond to do something�"�

"He won't. He'll think that Mel's too young to pursue, and all that. If we tell Mel to do something�"�

"He might."�

"He might?"�

"He might."�

"Hmm.� Or�. Hmm."�

Erestor looked up, somewhat alarmed. "'Or�' what?" he asked suspiciously.�

Glorfindel grinned.�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

"Oi! Mel!"�

Mel turned to see Glorfindel running to catch up with him.� "Good afternoon."�

"Good afternoon.� Tell you what, Erestor wants you to go and�do something."�

"He what?" Mel asked in surprise.� Why was Glorfindel herding him into the broom cupboard?� Glorfindel pushed him in, and he found himself face to face with the twins, who were grinning and holding a rope.� Bad combination.�

"Now," one of the twins said. It was truly disconcerting that he couldn't for the life of him tell them apart right now. "Just stay quiet and you won't be hurt."�

Something of Mel's uncertainty must have shown on his face, because the other rolled his eyes. "Of course you're not going to be hurt. If you cooperate, we won't even embarrass you." �

Mel blinked, and looked behind at Glorfindel, who was grinning.�

Mel sighed, and asked, "Would it matter if I asked what you were going to do with me?"�

"You'll find out soon enough. Now hold still, or the ropes will bind."�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

"Oi! Elrond!"�

Elrond stopped and waited for his seneschal to catch up with him. "Good afternoon."�

"Good afternoon. Where are you bound?"�

"Where am I usually bound at this time of day?� My office, to do 'elf-lord ruler things', as Erestor would term it."�

"Ah. I think you should go to your quarters instead."�

"Oh? And why is that?" Elrond asked, frowning as he realized that he was being herded by the larger elf away from his destination and back towards the residential wing.�

"Because," Glorfindel said unhelpfully, putting a muscular arm over Elrond's shoulder and marching him along the curiously empty corridors.�

"Because why?" Elrond persisted.�

"Because I said so, and because I am bigger than you, and because your sons agree, and because everyone knows and everyone's sick of it, and because we all want you to be happy and� just�. just because!" With that exclamation, Glorfindel opened the doors to Elrond's suite, shoved him in, closed the door and stuck a chair under the handle, effectively locking the door from the outside.�

"Happy? Glorfindel, what are you�" Elrond trained off, seeing the scene before him. Candles were lit all over, and a table for two had been set and plated with what was presumably food underneath polished silver domes. There were an abundance of red rose petals littering the floor. And the bed. And sitting, tied to one of the chairs at the table, was Melpomaen.�

"Um�" Mel said with a wry grin. "Hi?"�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

"You did WHAT?!!"�

The expressions of smug, self-satisfied glee that had decorated their faces melted into surprise as Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel realized that Erestor didn't think their plan was as clever as they did.� In fact, he seemed completely aghast.�

Bravely, Glorfindel spoke, "We locked Mel and Elrond up in Elrond's rooms to�uh�work things out. They have food; they'll be fine."�

"'They have food; they'll be fine'," Erestor echoed softly.� He sat back in his chair, stuck in surprise for a moment. He looked at the twins. "You two can go.� You," he said as Glorfindel tried to leave with them, "stay here. What on earth were you thinking?!"�

"Me?"�

"Only you would think of doing something like this."�

"It worked out pretty well with Mom and Dad.� Except they were locked in a cellar. And then yours truly was created."�

"Gah! Stop!"� Erestor buried his head in his hands. "Well then, oh brother mine, what if Elrond takes offence? What if Mel faints? What if�"�

"You worry too much. They'll be fine," Glorfindel repeated.�

"If it doesn't go fine, I want it to be understood that I had no part in it."�

"Elrond won't have any trouble believing that.� You never get involved in anything fun."�

Erestor smirked at his brother.� "Yes, a common misconception that kept me out of worlds of trouble with our parents."���

Glorfindel laughed, and then paused abruptly.� "What exactly do you mean?"�

"The honey incident?" Erestor leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "That was me."�

"What?!"�

"Mm-hmm."�

"Why, you little�!"�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

It had taken Elrond a few minutes to overcome his complete and utter shock and untie Mel.� Then he sat in the chair opposite the lovely young elf, at al loss for what to do.�

Eventually, Mel spoke up, "Well�.since they went to all this trouble�. Would you care to eat?"�

"You�" Elrond swallowed. "You're not�"�

"Upset?" Mel asked.� "Insulted? No. Hungry? Yes." He looked meaningfully at the covered dishes.� �

Elrond managed to crack a smile, and sat down.� They ate in silence, each looking up and gazing at the other with a thoughtful expression from time to time.�

Finally Mel sat back in his chair and regarded Elrond.� "Elrond."�

"Aye?"�

"Our friends seem to think there is� something between us. For my part, that is true." He started at the elf-lord, clearly expecting a response.�

"If that is so," Elrond began, "then why have you done nothing about it?"�

Mel grinned.� "I thought it was impetuous enough of me to have a serious crush on my leader.� Accosting him in the baths and having my wicked way with him would have been too much."�

Elrond laughed.� "I daresay that things between us would have moved along faster, had you done so."�

"So� am I to take it, then, that you would not have objected?" Mel sat forward.�

"Objected?" Elrond echoed. "I don't know.� I�" he paused, seeing Mel rise from his chair. "I have not taken a lover since my wife sailed."�

"Aye. Erestor told me what happened," Mel said with quiet sympathy. �

"And much as I admire and�want you," Elrond continued, utterly unable to deny it any longer, "I could never take someone to my bed without love. On their part as well as mine."�

Mel smiled, his eyes full of kindness and joy. He knelt in front of Elrond and said, "My lord Elrond, had I accosted you, you would not have done so."� �

And then he kissed him.�

Any suspicions or misgivings that Elrond might have had evaporated at the touch of Mel's lips on his.� They moved together, standing and embracing. They were of the same height�how had neither of them noticed that before?�

Mel felt lightheaded. Amazing that a crazy abduction by his friends could lead to this�� He ran his hands up Elrond's back, tracing and testing muscles, then down his front, opening the robes and easing them off of Elrond's shoulders.�

Elrond wasn't thinking much at all.� Long denied feelings rushed through him, and he unthinkingly mirrored Mel's movements.�

Mel saw that Elrond was definitely interested in the proceedings, but the elf-lord seemed disinclined to initiate.� Very well. �

"My lord," Mel began, breaking off their kiss. Elrond sighed and opened his eyes.� "Let me do this for you."�

"Yes," Elrond whispered.�

They were next to the bed, their somehow bare feet crushing the silly rose petals liberally strewn everywhere.� Mel had unbuttoned Elrond's tunic and was working on his own. Nude, Mel pushed Elrond back gently so that he lay prone on the bed.�

"You look beautiful like this," Mel said, looking over Elrond's body, his white skin contrasting with the deep red rose petals. His erection was rosy, too, and at Mel's words a flush rose on his face.� "I've watched you for so long."�

Elrond gasped as Mel's body slid up his own.� Laying partly atop the elf-lord, Mel slipped one leg between Elrond's, bending his head to kiss the half-elf's throat and chest. �

Elrond's voice was unsteady.� "You have?"�

"Yes.� Wanting you, but not even daring to think of what might be�"� Mel's voice whispered along Elrond's skin, the younger elf's lips never breaking contact with Elrond's skin.�

"Since when?" �

"Since I came here. Since I first saw you. Since�" Mel quieted and looked up and the sound of Elrond's gentle laughter.� "What is it?" he asked, stroking Elrond's side.�

"We've wasted a lot of time, haven't we?"�

"Oh. You, too, then?" Mel asked with a shy smile.�

"Yes," Elrond affirmed. �

"Well. Sounds like we have a lot of loving to make up for."�

Of that there was no doubt. Elrond grew bolder in the light of Mel's obvious want and their increasing need. Hands and mouths wandered, and they twisted around one another, loath to be apart.� Mel reverently kissed each of the scars he found, and Elrond repaid him kiss for kiss. Finally roused nearly beyond endurance, Melpomaen, breathing heavily and drunk with lust and love for the elf moving with him, asked, "How do you like it?"�

Elrond groaned, pulling Mel on top of him, between his spread legs. With a sweaty hand he reached down and grasped Mel's straining erection, squeezing.� Mel moaned. "I want this," Elrond said huskily. "In me. Now."�

"Oh, gods�"� Mel pushed himself in and out of Elrond's tight grip, and tried to pull his wits back together, looking for oil. There, on the nightstand, framed by roses (of course) was a bottle.� He slid sideways over Elrond to reach for it, and laughed when Elrond squeezed his ass. "Next time," he promised.�

He opened the bottle and said, "Valar. More roses."� He poured he strongly scented oil over his hands and erection, setting the bottle aside.� He teased with slick fingers Elrond's clenching�he snorted to himself at the only description that came to mind�rosebud opening, waiting until Elrond begged him to do more, pushing in two fingers when he couldn't stand it anymore��

"How much�"�

"That�s enough. Mel, please�"�

Really, who was he to deny such a request?� Mel aligned his throbbing cock with the oiled entrance and pushed in, not stopping until he was flush against Elrond.� Elrond was tight, oh so tight, and he was squeezing his muscles, the hot flesh rippling along his cock and Mel knew that he had to start moving or else this would end far too fast and��

He took a hold of Elrond's cock and stroked it in time with his own smooth thrusts. They moaned and keened together, whispering endearments to each other, not caring that a mere hour earlier they'd thought there was no chance for this, only knowing that they were here now, with the one they loved and everything just felt so incredibly, impossibly good!�

Elrond came just before Mel did, then suddenly they were both crying out, each gasping the other's name, and the rest of the world faded away.�
�

*� *� *� *� *�
�

"How long have they been in there?"�

"Three days."�

"How much food did you leave them?"�

"Not enough."�

"Then do you think they'd mind if we interrupted with�"�

"You're forgetting the possibility that they've been feeding each other�ouch!" Glorfindel exclaimed.� "How did I ever get such a prudish brother?" he asked plaintively, rubbing there Erestor had struck him.�

Erestor was saved from having to answer by the opening door.� �

Mel stood before them, unabashedly nude, with various pink and red love bites coloring his otherwise pale body. His hair was sleep-mussed, and he looked up the Erestor and Glorfindel.� "Do you mind?� We're trying to�oh! Food!"�

Erestor held out the tray heaped with food.� Mel quickly snatched it out of his hands.� �

"Bring more.� Chocolate, if there is any. Chocolate sauce. Whipped cream. Strawberries," Mel listed.�

"No problem," Glorfindel said, clamping a hand over Erestor's mouth (which had been hanging open).� We'll just leave it out here for you guys. Have a nice�erm�day."� Glorfindel pulled the door closed with his free hand.�

He pushed Erestor in front of him until they were out of earshot, and only then removed his hand from Erestor's mouth.�

"Just because I don't shout out my sexual escapades to the world," the councilor began, "doesn't�"�

"Erestor!"�

"What?"�

"Hush."�

"Don't you hush me."�

"I think I know what your problem is. You need leave to go to Mirkwood."�

"Whatever for?"�

"So that the big, buff king of Mirkwood can bugger you. Why else?"�

"He has a son, you know."�

"I do know.� Intimately."�

Oh, for the love of Arda�"�
�
�

The End