Nearly two weeks had passed since Lord Glorfindel's escapade on the roof. The wine had been barreled and was aging properly. Thranduil had laid claim to a fair share of it, promising to discuss payment with Elrond later. He did not seem in a great hurry to return to Mirkwood, due perhaps to his involvement with the War Councilor, and for this Orophin was glad as it meant that Legolas might not be leaving soon either.

Oro had been avoiding asking Haldir about their own return to Lothlórien, for despite Haldir's devotion to Elladan he was far more conscientious about their duties than either he or Rúmil was. Yet, although Rúmil surely was not eager to get back to their endless border patrols in the Golden Wood, Orophin knew he wanted to get out of Imladris to put some space between himself and Elrohir.

Oro ran into his brother in the library an hour or so after breakfast as he was waiting for Legolas, who had gone to speak to Lord Elrond. Rúmil sat on the floor between two of the stacks, large shelves of books that were mostly dusty though Oro, Legolas and Elladan often perused them. So much knowledge to be found here, Oro thought as he ran his fingers over the old leather spines, tooled in gold and some set with gems.

He might not have known Rúmil was there at all had his brother not sneezed loudly. Oro jumped and reached for his dagger. Legolas had gotten him in the habit of carrying at least a small knife in his boot, though on previous visits to Imladris Oro had always left all his weapons in his room. This was a safe place, a happy place and weapons were not generally needed -- except on the rare occasion when some crackpot of a wizard summoned a troll.

Orophin wondered what Legolas' life in Mirkwood was like, that he felt he needed always to be armed. Was he attacked in his own home? Orophin had only been to Mirkwood two or three times, and he recalled how dark the underground stone cave palace was, how gloomy the wood. He wondered when he might go there again, when he might see Legolas again after this. He did not wish to think about it. He knew the time of their parting was near and he had silently vowed to enjoy every last minute of their time together.

He rounded the corner to confront the sneezer and saw Rúmil looking up at him with wide blue eyes. Orophin sheathed his dagger and shook his head.

"Rúmil, what exactly are you doing crouched on the floor of the library?"

"Ah…" said Rúmil hesitantly. "Reading?" Quickly he pulled a book off the shelf next to him and held it up. "See!"

"That book is written in Westron, the language of Men," Oro pointed out. Neither of them spoke a word of that tongue.

"I am attempting to learn it," Rúmil said weakly, then he sighed and put the book back on the shelf. "Actually, I am hiding from Elrohir."

Orophin raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Oro, he is wearing me out. He is inexhaustible! I cannot keep up with him, and he keeps telling me that he thinks he is in love with me and that he will get his grand-mother to give me a permanent home in Imladris," Rúmil said with exasperation.

"I take it you do not return the sentiment."

"You take it correctly," said Rúmil, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. "I need a rest from him. How soon will we be going home? I have been wanting to ask Haldir but I never see him without Elladan… and you rarely without Legolas."

Rúmil looked frustrated and sad. Orophin reached out and stroked his brother's hair lightly. "I am sure we will go soon," he said simply.

Rúmil looked into his eyes. "Forgive me. I am being selfish. I would not deny you or Haldir your hard-won love."

"And neither of us would take it at the price of your suffering. I will ask Haldir tonight when he means to return home."

"Is this my punishment, Oro, to be pursued by an elf even more jaded than myself?" Rúmil asked plaintively. He referred to his own promiscuity, for his reputation at home in Lothlórien was not much better than that of Elrohir. "There was a time when I might have delighted in having him claim to love me, but now it rings false."

"Perhaps you should give him a chance to win your heart."

Rúmil shook his head. "I know it cannot be. I do not even wish to have him for a bed partner any more. I need… I need a rest!"

Before Orophin could reply, the door to the library banged open and Legolas stalked in. Orophin looked at him through a shelf of books. His fair face possessed a look of irritation, his bow-shaped lips curved in a scowl, a furrow on his brow.

"Oro?" he called.

"Over here."

"Orophin-- ah, hello, Rúmil. I did not realize you were here. Are you hiding from Elrohir?"

"You are too perceptive, Legolas," Rúmil said. "I will leave the pair of you in peace and find somewhere else to hide."

"Before you go--" Legolas said, putting a hand on Rúmil's arm, "Lord Elrond plans yet another banquet tonight. A parting banquet. Tomorrow three parties set forth from Imladris -- one to Mirkwood, one to Lórien, and a third to the Misty Mountains."

"What is in the Misty Mountains?" asked Rúmil.

"Orcs," Legolas replied solemnly. "Elladan and Elrohir will continue their quest to slay those who brought grief to their mother."

Rúmil nodded. "I will see you at the banquet tonight, then. I do not suppose there is any way to excuse myself."

"It would be poor manners to do so," said Orophin.

"Until tonight," Legolas said and Rúmil hurried out of the library.

The Prince turned to Orophin and bent forward to kiss him. Legolas' mouth was like tasting fire. It was warm and soft and struck Oro all the way down to his toes. He leaned against Legolas and the Prince's arms wound around him sinuously. Too soon he was breathless and dizzy and on his back on the library floor. Legolas straddled him, pulling at his clothing with a desperation that was uncharacteristic of him. Legolas was more the type to tantalize him with slow seductions.

Orophin understood the reason for the Prince's haste. Tears came to Oro's eyes as he was forced to think about the thing he had been avoiding -- that he and Legolas were doomed to part tomorrow.

"How long will it be until I see you again?" Oro gasped.

Legolas shook his blond head. "No matter how brief the time, it will be too long."

"I will beg Galadriel to send me to Mirkwood."

"I will ask Thranduil to send me to Lórien."

"Would he let you accompany us now?"

"No -- we have all that wine to transport."

"Perhaps my brothers and I should assist."

"You are clever as well as beautiful, Orophin. I shall ask both my father and Lord Elrond to send you with us. Lórien is not far from Mirkwood, so your journey home will not be too long delayed."

"It cannot be delayed long enough," Orophin insisted.

Legolas kissed him again, and then all else was forgotten.