Part Five

Elrohir, son of Elrond, Lord of Imladris, sat down on the floor of King Thranduil's throne room. Four hours had passed since Prince Legolas had left them here waiting to see the King, and Elrohir was dangerously bored. The only chair in this room was Thranduil's throne, and Elrohir's father currently occupied it. Elrond appeared to have nodded off, napping with the side of his head inclined against the throne. The falling asleep had only occurred in the past fifteen minutes, or Elrohir might have seated himself long before.

The three Galadhrim elves were still standing, though Rúmil at least was casting a desperate eye at the floor. Elrohir waved a hand at the stone beside him, but the grey-clad elf shook his head as if he did not dare sit down as well. He was under his elder brother's thumb, Elrohir thought. Too well controlled. As it was, he was surprised that Elladan had not joined him in sitting on the floor, but perhaps this was because he could not seem to keep his eyes off of Orophin.

Orophin was trying desperately to maintain the same poise that Haldir seemed to have so effortlessly and Elrohir was sure he had no idea that Elladan was already making plans for him. Elrohir wondered what it would take to make Haldir lose his poise, but the big guard just did not suit his taste. The thrill of the hunt was not worth the payoff of the conquest.

Slowly he looked around at the assembled company as he considered what would make this visit to Mirkwood more entertaining. He ruled out the Lórien company, except possibly Rúmil, who looked like he might be swayed into some sort of antics. Elrohir had actually had his eye on Rúmil for several years now, ever since hearing his grand-mother Galadriel complaining about her young guard's propensity for trouble-making.

Erestor looked both irritated and embarrassed, and had for several days now. He probably wanted desperately to wake up Elrond, who was snoring away on Thranduil's throne. Glorfindel seemed to think this was hilarious. He was cleaning his fingernails with a knife, and Elrohir was just waiting for him to lose a finger. Saelbeth, the Mirkwood guard, looked rather embarrassed as well, but surely he had known as well that Thranduil would keep them waiting.

Now here was a possibility, Elrohir thought as he examined the delicate face of the blond elf. Saelbeth was genuinely beautiful, though of course he could not compete with his Prince. Elrohir had already ruled out Legolas for his own personal entertainment. He had never liked the younger elf, mostly because he seemed to be better at just about everything than Elrohir was, and cheerful as well. He was too young to have much experience and too naïve to get up to any real fun.

Saelbeth stood by the door, occasionally opening it and looking out as if he expected Thranduil to join them at any moment. Earlier he had served them some wine and a small tray of delicate snacks, but those were long gone. Elrohir rose up from his seat on the hard stone floor and slipped over to him. He was taller than the slender blond, and broader across the shoulders. Saelbeth had a distinctly feminine appearance that was slightly feline in nature. His expression was reserved and wary as Elrohir approached him.

"May I assist you in any way, Lord Elrohir?" he asked politely.

"Perhaps you may," Elrohir said, pressing closely against him and resting a hand on the front of his tunic. He watched carefully for Saelbeth's reaction, but the Mirkwood elf neither tried to move away nor seemed to invite the invasion of his space further.

"What is it exactly that you want?"

"Information."

Saelbeth frowned. "Forgive me, I do not know when King Thranduil will arrive. He no doubt has pressing business which keeps him elsewhere."

"No doubt," Elrohir said, toying with the edge of Saelbeth's tunic. "So tell me, who is he pressing?"

Saelbeth looked slightly amused but he pretended not to get Elrohir's meaning. He inclined his head slightly, raised a brow, and lowered his voice. "Are you asking me for the court gossip, Lord Elrohir?"

"Alleviate my curiosity, Saelbeth."

Saelbeth drew in a deep breath and Elrohir could at last see that the blond elf was indeed attracted to him. This pleased him well enough. He bit his lower lip as if he were considering whether it was a good idea or a bad one to gossip with Elrond's son. Elrohir saw Elladan finally move in on Orophin from the corner of his eye and grinned. Erestor cleared his throat loudly but everybody ignored him.

"Why should I do that?" Saelbeth said at last.

"Because I am asking you to," Elrohir said, smiling seductively. They spoke together softly so that no one else could listen in on their conversation without an obvious effort.

"My loyalty is to the King…"

"To the King, or the Prince?"

"To both."

"With which do you share a bed? Or are you merely a loyal servant?"

Saelbeth colored slightly and lifted his head, freezing a little. "I am a friend to the House of Thranduil and to serve father and son in any way they desire is my privilege, though I am no servant."

"Any way they desire… I am intrigued," said Elrohir, not the least bit put off. Saelbeth's ears were very red now. Elrohir reached up and stroked one of the hot tips, rubbing it slightly between his fingers. Saelbeth made a strangled noise, then batted his hand away. "Would you were such a friend to the House of Elrond."

"I suppose I could be," Saelbeth said frankly, looking into Elrohir's eyes.

"I am glad to hear that," said Elrohir.

Saelbeth shook his head slightly, then smiled in earnest. "Silindë is Thranduil's lover, but this is not court gossip, for even our young Prince only suspects and knows not for certain where his father's interests lie. Thranduil is not the sort to brag of his conquests."

"So that must make you Legolas' consort?" Elrohir filed the knowledge away in his mind. It was good to know who had the King of Mirkwood's ear.

"No. Legolas has no consort," Saelbeth said regretfully.

"But you wish…" Elrohir said knowledgeably, trailing off.

"Yes, I wish," said Saelbeth sharply.

"Then why do you not act on your wishes, Saelbeth, friend of the House of Thranduil? Legolas is ripe to bursting. He is a fruit that needs plucking. Does he dislike you?"

"We have been friends since were elflings," said Saelbeth, "And lately he extends invitations to his bed that are much coveted, but none dare accept. His father's temper is well-known."

"Thranduil does not permit his son to take lovers? I should like to see Elrond stop Elladan and myself from our pursuits," Elrohir mused.

"No one dares find out," Saelbeth sighed. "More and more of late I think it would be worth the risk."

"What if I were to assist you in your endeavors?" Elrohir offered, squeezing Saelbeth's shoulder lightly. "Would that help to alleviate your fear? I am more than expert in arranging clandestine affairs."

"Of that I have no doubt," said Saelbeth, his bright blue eyes shining, "And were you to do such a thing in such a way where I might not have to fear Thranduil's wrath…I would be very grateful indeed."

"Then we have an accord," said Elrohir. "And we will discuss this later in greater privacy."

Saelbeth nodded eagerly, then a strange expression came over his face. Nimbly he leapt away from the door, pulling Elrohir with him, just in time for it to burst open and reveal the fine figure of the King of Mirkwood.