Lord Elrond sighed. Glorfindel grinned at him, displaying a row of even white teeth. He lounged provocatively against the edge of the hot spring bathing pool, and Elrond felt the War Councilor's foot slide over his own. He pulled his own foot back reluctantly.

"You always cause such trouble, my friend," Elrond said. "Sometimes I think that your visit to the Halls of Mandos addled your mind."

"Oh, that is a fine thing to say," Glorfindel said, affecting a pout, but a moment later he was laughing. "Perhaps it did. Have you ever fought a Balrog, my Lord Elrond? It is not easy! And dying is not as pleasant as Mandos likes to give out."

"I imagine it is not," Elrond replied mildly. "You know that Thranduil will be lucky if Celeborn does not make a pie out of him for assaulting his daughter."

"I would be willing to bet that Thranduil could get the better of Lord Celeborn in any contest," Glorfindel said confidently.

He turned around and rose out of the water for a moment, treating Elrond to a view of his perfectly rounded posterior. Elrond was sharply reminded of the fact that he himself had not taken a lover in a very, very long time. Yet he could not in good conscience allow himself to indulge in the willing pleasures that were Glorfindel. There were too many reasons why it was just a very bad idea.

Glorfindel turned back around holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. Elrond wondered when he had secreted that by the pool, because he certainly had not been carrying it when they arrived. He licked his lips as Glorfindel poured two glasses and handed him one.

"It is early to be indulging in the grape," said Elrond even as he took the glass and lifted it to his lips.

"We will need it, I think, to get through this evening," Glorfindel said.

"I thought you liked trouble."

"I like Thranduil. As for Celeborn… Elrond, I do not know how Lady Galadriel puts up with him. He is rude, over-bearing and demanding. I feel sorry for that little Elfling Haldir that he has his eyes on. I ought to warn him that Celeborn will chew him up and spit him out."

"I did not know you felt so strongly about this," Elrond said slowly, draining his glass. Glorfindel was right. He was going to need it. "You should not speak so of Celeborn."

"You know I was never one to hold back my thoughts."

"No," Elrond agreed. "Still, he is a guest here, and Haldir is a subject of Lórien, not Imladris. You should not interfere there."

Glorfindel laughed bitterly. "No, I should not. After all, no one interfered when Celeborn's gaze strayed to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind, Elrond, it was long ago. Here, have some more wine. Your glass is empty."

"Thank you," Elrond said automatically, but he felt his stomach twist in a knot. Had Celeborn assaulted Glorfindel? "You may tell me anything, my friend. You know that."

"Yes, I know," Glorfindel said, his blue-eyed gaze straying out into the night, the steam rising up around him and giving a curl to his long golden hair. "Yet perhaps you are right, and some things are better left unsaid, or lost to the night."

Elrond slid closer to Glorfindel and touched his face gently, grazing his cheek with the back of his hand. "You are as lonely as I am, aren't you?"

"No…" Glorfindel looked at him and grinned slyly, seeming more his old self. "I am not nearly as lonely as you are."

"Do you think Thranduil is right? That I should seek a wife?"

Glorfindel laughed. "I did not think the fair sex held appeal to you."

"So perhaps at last you are learning that there are some things you do not know about me after all," Elrond teased. "I just… I just have had no eyes for anyone since I lost Gil-galad."

"You could use someone to help you with the cooking and the cleaning, and planning banquets and council meetings."

"I have Erestor for that."

They both laughed, and Glorfindel knew that Elrond was teasing. Again their glasses were refilled and Elrond felt the wine beginning to go to his head. It felt pleasant. He almost never allowed himself to become intoxicated, but tonight he felt the urge to let go. What time was it? He really ought to be getting dressed for the banquet but it was so pleasant relaxing with Glorfindel that he almost did not care if they were late.

"I would like to see you find love," Glorfindel said more seriously. "Of all the folk I know, you deserve it the most."

"As do you."

"Oh, I settle for lust."

"And why is that? You do not settle for less than the best in your choice of wardrobe or your dinner, or any other of life's pleasures. Why settle for less in matters of the heart?"

Glorfindel's large azure eyes shimmered slightly, or perhaps it was merely the effect of the steam rising around them. "I have no heart, Elrond."

"That's ridiculous."

"Oh, it is gone, to one who knows not that he holds it."

"I sincerely hope you do not mean Thranduil."

Glorfindel laughed. "Certainly not, though I would have taken him for sport had he let me."

"Then who—"

"What time is it?" Glorfindel asked with seeming innocence. He was trying to distract Elrond from the question, but in fact, it worked. A bell chimed out and Elrond realized that the dinner had indeed started without them. Elrond cursed and set down his glass.

"I will have it out of you later," he said.

"You can try!" Glorfindel leapt nimbly out of the pool, flaunting his beautifully solid figure once more as he snatched up his robe and disappeared into the night.

Elrond swayed on his feet, wishing the War Councilor had waited for him. He had drunk too much on an empty stomach and his head was spinning. He picked up his robe and slipped it on, knowing he would have to go back to his chambers to change into something more formal, and this would make him even later.

After lacing his sash wrong three times and losing a pin in his hair, Elrond called for one of the elf maids who worked in the palace to assist him. She blushed and giggled as she straightened him out, her hands straying as she smoothed his robes around his hips, fixed the ties, and combed and plaited his hair. Elrond felt heated from the wine and the gentle caresses and the thought of the spectacular Glorfindel. He squirmed like an Elfling and the maid rapped him on the behind with the brush.

Elrond turned and looked at her with what he hoped was a dour look, raising an eyebrow, but she merely smirked at him, then rubbed the spot she had smacked.

"You are too bold," he growled.

"Lord Glorfindel mentioned that he thought I should be bold with you," she replied smoothly.

"That explains much. Off with you," Elrond mumbled, glad for the looseness of his robes, "I cannot be any more late for dinner than I already am."

"If you would like help undressing later, I will not be far away," she said, then hurried out of the room before he could upbraid her for her tenacity. Glorfindel, indeed. It was never far enough for him unless he went too far.

When Elrond at last arrived in the dining hall, expecting the banquet to be in full swing, he was surprised to find that few of his guests had indeed arrived before him. It was nearly eight-thirty, and only Celeborn and Galadriel sat with a very anxious looking Erestor. Marvelous plates of food and tall goblets of wine surrounded them. Erestor had indeed seen the meal made to perfection, the table set exquisitely, the room elegant, yet pervaded with warmth. Elrond vaguely entertained the idea of asking his councilor to marry him, but from Erestor's expression he could easily define that Erestor would not be amused by that right now.

"My Lord Elrond, I thought we were to dine at eight," Erestor said through gritted teeth.

"It is only just eight now, is it not?" said Glorfindel, strolling in behind Elrond.

"Too busy fluffing your pillows to keep track of the time, Glorfindel?" asked Celeborn, smirking slightly. Glorfindel ignored him, leaning against Elrond and reaching for a wine goblet.

"You are drunk," Elrond said stiffly.

"So are you," Glorfindel pointed out.

"Certainly not," said Elrond. He sat down next to Celeborn heavily.

"I think you are, Elrond," said Galadriel, but her eyes twinkled. Elrond winked at her and reached for a roll, which he began slathering with butter. Suddenly he was very hungry.

"I trust you did not wait for me," he said, stuffing the first bite into his mouth. He did remember his manners enough to chew and swallow before going on.

"Of course we waited for you," said Celeborn irritably.

"And the others," Galadriel added more gently.

"Where is your daughter?" Elrond asked.

"And where is King Thranduil?" Erestor added, looking suspiciously at Glorfindel.

"Where is the hummingbird stew?" Glorfindel replied glibly, downing his wine. He did not take any food, Elrond noticed.

"Our daughter appears to be late, with the rest of your guests," Galadriel said. "I do hope you will forgive her ill manners. I should go look for her, and her companions."

"We are here!" cried one of the maidens of Lórien, now gowned in green, and the pair of them entered the room with Haldir, who was carrying two harps and rather struggling under the burden. The other was garbed in purple, his favorite color, and had wet hair. Which one was Celebrían? Even as drunk as he was Elrond was not about to ask.

"Please forgive our tardiness, Lord Elrond," the maid in purple said, taking the seat next to him. The other girl sat by her side, and Haldir took the place to the other side of Galadriel, between her and Glorfindel, who had elbowed Erestor out of the way to claim the place next to the Lady of Light. He moved for Haldir, however. Elrond found this odd but did not call attention to it.

"There is nothing to forgive," Elrond said. "Please, have a biscuit."

He offered her the basket of rolls and she blushed fetchingly. Elrond frowned. Why should this make her blush? He wished he was not so intoxicated, for he was having a great amount of trouble sorting things out right now.

He did notice her eyes. They were large and dark blue, and open, expressive. They told him she was full of affection, that she had a warm heart. He liked her, he realized. And was it the wine, or did she stir him just the slightest bit, even with her limp, damp hair that had been bound up but still dripped slightly on the shoulders of the lovely purple gown? She took a biscuit and set it on her plate, but her eyes never left his.

Elrond opened his mouth to say something, though he knew not what, but before he could come up with a coherent sentence, Thranduil came boisterously into the room, singing at the top of his lungs.