Part Eight

"Are you going to tell me what brought about this happy occasion or not?" Thranduil asked, pouring more wine for the both of them.

Lord Elrond of Imladris looked across the table at Thranduil, King of the Elves of Northern Mirkwood, and wondered if his reason for coming here was not a truly terrible one indeed. Supper had been finished, Haldir had been commanded to bring food to Legolas, and all of those who had been dining in the Great Hall had departed except for the two of them. It had not escaped Elrond's notice that Elladan had disappeared with Orophin and Elrohir with Saelbeth, either. He knew what his sons got up to and he only wished he could have gotten their words that they would behave while in Mirkwood.

Then again, Thranduil and his elves never behaved themselves when they were in Imladris, except for Legolas who seemed to be some sort of exception, not only in Mirkwood but everywhere. The young Prince was truly a paragon of good behavior and no one ever heard tales of cast-off lovers or unruly actions of his. Elrond had to admit that this nobility or perhaps innocence was what drew him to Legolas, himself.

Was his reason for asking what he was about to ask Thranduil for entirely selfless? He had been trying to convince himself that he was here on Arwen's behalf, not his own. Of course, Arwen knew no more than anyone else as to why Elrond was here. Maybe he should have allowed her to come. She had been disappointed at being left behind.

Elrond lifted his cup and sipped it. The wine was his own vintage, made in Imladris and imported in barrels every year to Mirkwood by some arrangement of Thranduil's to which Elrond seemed to have gotten the raw end of. It was always that way with Thranduil, he thought. It was easier to give him whatever he desired than to argue with him. This time, however, Elrond had come to ask him for something fairly important and he truly had no idea how the King would react.

"I know we have never been the closest of friends," Elrond began, taking a deep breath. Thranduil's laughter interrupted him.

"True, I cannot stand you any more than you like me," Thranduil agreed.

He clinked his goblet against Elrond's, not seeming to notice at all the wine that was splashed down the front of Elrond's favorite robe and he drained his own goblet and filled another. Elrond had no idea how he could drink so much and seem so sober when he himself was already feeling the onslaught of a headache from what he had imbibed with his dinner. Then again, maybe it was Thranduil giving him the headache rather than the wine.

Elrond wiped the front of his robe with a cloth. "I do not dislike you, Thranduil, you simply drive me to distraction."

"You do not care for the way I behave. I see it in your eyes," Thranduil said amiably. "This does not bother me. I simply wish you were a bit less uptight. You always have the expression of someone who has swallowed a lemon."

Elrond sighed. "More and more, I am beginning to see this as a bad idea."

"See what as a bad idea?"

"The reason I have come here, to Mirkwood, to speak to you."

"Oh that! Yes, the very thing you have been avoiding telling me for at least three hours." Thranduil pounded his fist on the table. More wine splashed out of Elrond's cup. He was going to have to throw this robe away.

"You have no patience."

"I have no patience!"

"There is also the fact that you kept me waiting nearly six hours until you had the decency to greet me," Elrond added sourly.

"Now who has no patience?" Thranduil asked, chuckling. "I was in the bath."

"You could not leave your bath for a matter of this importance?" Elrond snapped.

"First of all, I still am unenlightened as to what the matter of great importance is. Secondly, Silindė came into my bathing chamber just as I was about finished and well-- have you ever seen such a fair jewel, Elrond?"

"Silindė? Legolas' guard?"

"He has been my consort for nearly a decade now-- ah, but I have not seen you in all this time, not since--"

"Not since before Celebrķan left."

Thranduil fell silent, quite a feat for the big blond King. He reached across the table and put a sympathetic hand on Elrond's. After a moment, he spoke with quiet sincerity. "I am truly sorry, my friend."

Elrond believed him. Thranduil had lost his wife long ago, shortly after Legolas was born. She was never spoken of, but Elrond remembered her well. She was fair and kind and Legolas took after her in many ways. It struck him then that they should have this in common, when Elrond felt that Thranduil was someone in which he had nothing but station in common at all.

"I will return to Valinor myself, one day. We will be reunited," Elrond said.

"Yet meanwhile, there is no reason to lie in a cold bed," Thranduil said conspiratorially. "Silindė has made my nights much more endurable of late."

"And your afternoons as well, apparently," Elrond said. "Yet my empty bed is not what I came to speak of."

"To the point, at last," Thranduil said, refilling the wine cups yet again. This time Elrond picked his up and drank a fair portion before he could wind up splashed once more.

"To the point," Elrond said. He might as well spell it out. Thranduil would either say yea or nay and then be done with it. "I wish to affiance your son Legolas to my daughter, Arwen."

Thranduil had just taken a mouthful of wine, which he sprayed over Elrond in his surprise. His large blue eyes went round and the wine dripped down his chin, staining it purple. The incredulous look on his face made it all worth the asking, Elrond decided. He smiled slightly and wiped his face with the already sodden cloth.

"You jest," said Thranduil.

"No," said Elrond. "I would like Legolas to marry Arwen. I can think of no elf in Middle-earth more appropriate."

"Arwen has sent you to ask for him?"

"No. She knows of it not. Yet she likes Legolas well enough and is a dutiful daughter. I doubt not that she will do as I ask and accept this contract."

"You wish her to come live in Mirkwood, then?"

"I would prefer that Legolas came to live in Imladris. If they took over the rule of my city together, I might be free to rejoin my wife in Valinor."

"Well," said Thranduil, "That certainly makes sense. Yet I fear I am not ready to easily sacrifice my son to this whim of yours."

"I feared that might be the case. There will be a dowry, of course. Wine, jewels…"

"No, I don't want those things of you, Elrond."

Elrond arched his eyebrows. "No?"

"No."

"Then what would you have?"

Thranduil thought for a moment. "I will agree to this with three conditions."

Immediately Elrond was wary. "What are they?"

"First, Legolas is not to know until I deem it time to inform him. I should like time to prepare him for this. He is young yet."

"I understand. I have not told anyone at all yet."

"Then neither shall I. Next, you must help me clear out the orc bands in the Southern corner of Mirkwood and the spiders in the east. Your sons and Lord Glorfindel are known to be skilled warriors."

Elrond considered this for a moment. It would be dangerous to be certain, but he doubted not that the three of them would actually enjoy the challenge. "Very well."

"It may take all of the Autumn season to do this," Thranduil added.

"I am aware of that."

"You will have to be my guest for quite some time."

"Can that be any worse than being your in-law forever?"

Thranduil roared with laughter. "You know, I think I could learn to like you, Elrond. We shall have to see who I can find to warm your bed. It might alleviate some of your stiffness.

"Undoubtedly," Elrond said, finishing his wine. "Now tell me, what is the final condition."

"I will name that once we finish with the orcs and spiders."

Elrond glared at him. "What if I am not amenable to it?"

"Then I will be in your debt for your assistance."

Elrond glared at him. Thranduil could ask for absolutely anything, knowing him. He might purposely choose something that Elrond would have to refuse. Yet if he wished to accomplish this marriage, he was forced to agree.

"Very well," he sighed. Thranduil grabbed his hand and shook it.

"Welcome to the family," the King of Mirkwood said, and then added, "Well… maybe."