Lord Elrond cleared his throat. If it were not bad enough that his daughter had just chosen to bind herself to a mortal, had recklessly thrown away her immortality to follow her heart, and had almost died as her fate became linked to that of the One Ring, now his twin sons were drunk, boisterous, and making fools out of themselves at the engagement party along with Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, who was equally drunk if not nearly so boisterous.

The trio had at least the decency to vacate themselves from the party to an alcove on a terrace at Minas Tirith, though they had left a trail behind them of spilled wine, clothing, and jewelry. Elbereth, what had Elrohir been doing with his fingers that he had felt the need to remove his signet ring and toss it on the floor in the hallway? And King Thranduil would be furious if Legolas lost this jeweled hair ornament. It had been a gift to the prince on his thousandth birth-day. Elrond had picked up the items and located his sons and the prince, all stripped down to their leggings in a writhing tangle upon a stone bench. Legolas had one boot on, and Elladan was holding the other one, apparently just having removed it.

His throat clearing had no effect, and for a moment he could not help staring at the prince, who in his drunken disarray still managed to be rather fetching. Legolas' blue eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and on his throat was a blue-black bruise no doubt left by one of Elrond's sons. Golden hair splashed over the bench and over Elrohir, who was licking Legolas' flat belly while his twin tried to get the prince's other boot removed. Legolas' fingers were half-curled around a bottle of wine, which he lifted to his swollen, kiss-reddened lips, nearly clunking Elrohir on the head as he did.

"By the Valar, Legolas, you are beautiful," Elrohir mumbled, echoing his father's thoughts.

"Mmmmph," the prince graciously accepted the compliment.

"I cannot get his boot off!" Elladan groused.

"Hurry up, brother, before he changes his mind. We have waited too long to have him to ourselves."

"You will have to wait a bit longer," Elrond said loudly, before he found himself witness to something he would have preferred not to see. "Legolas. I need to speak to you."

Legolas opened his eyes. They were more red than blue, and he although he responded to the sound of his name, it was not clear to Elrond if the lad was aware of who was speaking to him. He did not reply.

"But, Ada, Legolas is really in no condition to speak just now," Elrohir said slyly, sitting up. He slipped the bottle from the prince's hand and took a pull. "We will send him to you in the morning."

"He is also in no condition, then, for what you intend to use him for," Elrond said irritably. "Get off of him, both of you, now."

Reluctantly the twins stood up, relieving their father of their clothes and jewelry almost cheerfully.

"So close this time," Elladan said to Elrohir, pulling his tunic back over his head and tying it. "The closest we have ever been."

"Before he leaves Minas Tirith—" Elrohir said meaningfully, but then he glanced at Elrond and stopped. Elrond simply shook his head. Once he gave Legolas the news, the twins would have no chance at all to paw at the boy, so he did not bother to reprimand them any further.

"Go sleep off all that wine you drank. I will not have you spoiling Arwen's party," he told them sharply.

"And you, Ada? Will you be using Legolas for your own pleasure, then?" Elrohir pouted.

"Certainly not!" Elrond snapped, his tone harsh because he hated admitting that the temptation was there. The twins laughed riotously and abandoned their prey, throwing an arm around each other's shoulders as they stumbled off down the hall, leaving Elrond holding Legolas' tunic, under shirt, boot, and hair ornament. They took the bottle with them.

Sighing inwardly, Elrond knelt beside the bench and slid the prince's foot back into his boot. Legolas had closed his eyes again, but he forced them open and attempted to thank Elrond.

"Peace, child, speak not," Elrond said softly as he next inserted Legolas back into his tunic. Legolas put his arms around Elrond and looked up at him blurrily.

"Do you desire me, sir?" Legolas asked, his voice slurred. "You may kiss me if you like."

Ai, would he like? More than he would ever admit. "Legolas! Behave yourself."

"It matters not," Legolas said darkly. "Let whoever desires me have me. I have no one to keep myself for."

"You father did not raise you to be parceling yourself out in such a manner. Besides, surely your heart tells you this is wrong." His tone was gentle as he sat Legolas up and tried to fix his hair with the lost ornament.

"My heart was lost at Helm's Deep."

"This is what I have come to tell you, Legolas. It is not so."
"I do not take your meaning," Legolas said. "Where is my bottle?"

"Haldir lives."

"Haldir is in the Halls of Mandos. I saw him bleed his life away on the stones. I held him in my arms while he died. I—" Legolas began to get very upset. He pushed himself into a standing position and nearly fell. Elrond leapt to his feet and caught the lad nimbly.

"Have I ever lied to you, Legolas?"

"I am dreaming," Legolas breathed. "So many times has he come to me in dreams and claimed to be alive. Why should you not do the same?"

"He is here."

Legolas squinted at Elrond. He looked so desolate and broken, and that only enhanced his loveliness. It disturbed Elrond that the child's pain should make him so attractive, but there was no denying that it did. Elrond had done a terrible job with the hair, but there was not much to be done about that.

"Who is where?" Legolas asked.

"Haldir of Lothlórien," Elrond said, putting his hands on Legolas shoulders to steady him on his feet. Tears sparked in the prince's eyes at the sound of the marchwarden's name. He ought to put the child to bed and try to speak to him in the morning. However, Haldir was asking for him and would wait no longer. "Haldir is here."

"Why are you saying this?"

"Because it is true. Have you enough strength to see him now? He has been waiting for you."

Legolas looked confused. "How could he be here?"

"His brothers brought him to me at Rivendell after the battle, for healing. He still is pained by his wounds. He is very weak. I brought him with me here."

"You have been here for three days," Legolas said with exasperation. "Why was I not told sooner, if this is so?"

Elrond felt a frisson of guilt, but he brushed it aside. "There was no time until tonight, between the coronation and the engagement banquet. I wanted— no, I needed to tell you personally."

The prince nodded dumbly, still looking lost, lacking in understand. Elrond let go of his shoulders gingerly, hoping he would not fall over. Legolas swayed on his feet but seemed more steady, so Elrond took a firm grip on his elbow and waist and began to walk him down the hall. Legolas was unresisting, compliant in Elrond's embrace, and again the Lord of Imladris wished he could take advantage of this reckless state of inebriation the way his sons had no compunction about doing. Instead Elrond propelled Legolas to the House of Healing, a long, and he hoped, sobering walk down several levels. They held no conversation, though Elrond wondered what, if anything, the prince was thinking.

Elrond pushed the door open to the rooms that housed those who were ill and wounded. Haldir was the only patient at the moment; all the others had been released to go to the celebration. Haldir was probably well enough to attend, but Elrond had been holding him back. Worrying, perhaps too much. Hoping… well. He was a fool to think that anyone besides Legolas could turn the Galadhrim captain's head, even after having saved his life. Best just to put them back together and let them savor the reward of love they both deserved. Without either of them, the war would have been lost.

Haldir sat on the edge of his cot, looking caged and edgy. He was dressed in a red tunic and black leggings that had been made for him in Rivendell. His supple black leather boots sheathed his muscular calves to the knee. They gave him a dangerous air that sent a chill down Elrond's spine. His hair, unlike the prince's, was perfectly neat and braided, shining pale in the dim light of the chamber.

"Legolas? Elrond, what did you do to him?"

Legolas stared at Haldir for a long moment, then fainted dead away.