Elrond felt, at times, that his life would be so much easier if he were the sort of person with whom others felt they could gossip. As he sat at his dining table and looked at those sitting around him, he knew there was much going on to which he was not privy. Oh, he could certainly guess. He had known them all for far too long for any of them to be able to hide much from him, but it would have been easier if they simply confided what was going on.

Ah, well, perhaps their romantic lives were none of his business.

Haldir and Elladan sat together, talking quietly. Elrond had not seen his son so happy in many moons, so he was well enough pleased with this arrangement. Unfortunately, Haldir was the one who might be the most likely to tell him about the other entanglements… except perhaps Erestor, but he was even less likely to hear gossip than Elrond was.

Glorfindel sat next to Elrohir, looking sulky. He seemed to be completely ignored. Arwen, who was dressed in a turquoise robe that appeared to be slightly too large for her, had told him that both she and Haldir had bested Glorfindel in competition earlier this afternoon, so Elrond thought this must be the reason for his pique. Elrond was proud of his daughter for showing such skill, but he secretly thought that Glorfindel might have thrown the match so as to spare Arwen's feelings, or perhaps his long battle with Haldir had worn him out.

He had been disappointed to hear (also from Arwen) that Thranduil had bested Haldir, though his daughter had assured him it had been a good battle. Something else had apparently happened after the match, but Arwen had refused to say what. Elrond was determined to find out. Thranduil was in high spirits, and was sitting next to Rúmil, of all people. Elrohir was on Rúmil's other side, and the Lórien elf seemed torn as to whom he should give his attention. Legolas sat between his father and Orophin, and the two seemed even more preoccupied with each other than Elladan and Haldir.

Interesting again. Elrond could not help but feel a little jealous of Orophin. Legolas was a spectacular creature, as well as a genuinely kind one. Elrond always enjoyed conversing with him, for he was clever and well-spoken, and far more polite than his father. Elrond had never directly invited the young Prince to his bed although he had made his interest apparent enough. Thranduil had noticed once and chuckled, elbowing him in the ribs.

"I do not think you are his type," he had teased.

Elrond had only been glad he was not livid, but Thranduil apparently trusted Legolas to make his own decisions, as well he should. Legolas was far more circumspect in his choice of lovers than many elves were. Elrond had always felt he could have loved Legolas, if only he had returned his affection. Perhaps he was nearly as lonely as Elladan had been recently, Elrond mused. He thought of his wife, Celebrían, missing her sharply. Had he not so many responsibilities here in Middle-earth, he would have gone long ago to Valinor to be reunited with her.

His bed had been cold for so long. This was part of why he begrudged none of the others their arrangements, even those that were occasionally inappropriate… Thranduil was in the same situation as he was; his wife was also gone. But Rúmil? What was he thinking? What was Rúmil thinking? He was better off with Elrohir. Thranduil was rumored to be dangerous in the bedroom.

Elrond thought about what it might be like if he turned his own attentions towards the King of Mirkwood. True, Thranduil had often been a thorn in his side, but he was beautiful, and Elrond did not doubt that he could handle the King. Thranduil was undeniably beautiful, that was where Legolas had gotten his own good looks. Elrond shook his head. It was madness. He really needed to find something else to think about besides his empty bed. As if he could sense that Elrond was thinking about him, Thranduil turned his head towards Elrond and grinned at him.

"Pity you were so busy seeing to your household chores this afternoon. You missed watching me humiliate Haldir!"

"I was arranging this banquet -- for you," Elrond said with a flare of irritation. "And I am certain that Haldir fought well."

"He did, he did, but not as well as I. Had to claim a forfeit from him, to teach him a lesson." Thranduil smirked.

"A forfeit?" Elrond frowned. "I hardly see that such a thing should be necessary in a simple afternoon exercise."

"Nor do I," said Haldir, who had apparently been attracted by Thranduil's booming voice. "Especially not the one he claimed."

"What was it?" Elrond felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"A night with Rúmil," Haldir said.

This was the first time Elrond had ever seen Rúmil blush. Elrond turned towards Arwen to ask why she had not mentioned this to him, but she suddenly felt the urge to jump up from the table and go speak to Erestor, who was arguing with one of the serving elves in the far corner near the entrance to the kitchens. She nearly tripped over the hem of the robe she was wearing in her haste. Elrohir had just taken a mouthful of wine and he choked on it, spitting it all over his plate and the tablecloth.

"Thranduil," Elrond said, "I do not feel it is appropriate that you should force yourself on one of my guests in such a manner."

"Actually I asked for a night with Haldir. Rúmil simply volunteered to take his place and I am satisfied with the arrangement. So is Rúmil," Thranduil said airily. He stroked the younger elf's silvery blond hair and Rúmil squirmed slightly.

"Rúmil?" Elrond asked.

"Um…what?"

Elrond sighed inwardly. Maybe he was better off not knowing things such as this. Had he really just been thinking that he wished to hear all of the gossip? "Are you accepting this willingly? I will not permit anyone, even Thranduil, to take advantage of you."

"No, he is not willing!" said Elrohir violently.

"Yes… I am," Rúmil said, glancing at Thranduil, then at Haldir.

"You have no sense of humor," Thranduil said to Elrond. He turned to Elrohir. "I will not damage your plaything, Elrohir."

"Rúmil is not anyone's plaything," Haldir said angrily, banging his fist on the table. Thranduil simply smiled at him.

"Enough," said Elrond. "I will not have any more discussion of this at my table. What you choose to do in your bedrooms is your own business, but I think this sort of sordid nonsense is beneath all of you."

Rúmil seemed to think this angry statement was directed at him. He turned a deeper shade of scarlet. "Forgive me, Lord Elrond!" he cried, then he jumped up from the table and ran out of the hall.

"Rúmil!" said Elrohir, but the other elf did not stop. Elrohir's eyes narrowed. He glanced slyly at Thranduil. "Do not worry, my lord, I will retrieve him for you and have him sent to your room," he said coldly, then he left the table in pursuit of the Lórien elf. Elrond rested his head in his hand.

"Excuse me," said Glorfindel. He got up and followed Elrohir. Elrond could not imagine that he would make things better. He lifted his eyes to Haldir's. Haldir was still glaring at Thranduil.

"Do you not trust me, Haldir?" Thranduil asked. He was still smiling but Elrond thought he saw a hint of exasperation in the King's expression.

"No, my lord, I do not," said Haldir. "Not in this moment."

"Perhaps your faith will be restored tomorrow, when you find your brother alive and well and perhaps even happy," Thranduil said. He rose from the table. "Good night, Elrond. Rest easy, I will not force myself on any who do not desire to lie with me. I have never had to."

He departed as well. Elladan turned concerned eyes to Haldir. "Should we go after Rúmil?"

Haldir shook his head. "No," he said.

Elrond frowned. Haldir was impossible to decipher sometimes. Within moments both he and Elladan and Orophin and Legolas left the table. Arwen and Erestor had both disappeared. Elrond decided a walk in the gardens would clear his head, and soon he too left the remnants of what was decidedly not the best banquet he had ever hosted.