Moonlight and Shadows
by SkyFire

Rated: PG
Pairing: Elrond/Glorfindel, faint hints of Legolas/Glorfindel.
Summary: Unexpected things happen during a meeting between Elrond and Thranduil.
Feedback: Please!
Archive: Melethryn. Others, with permission only.
Warning: Elrond/Glorfindel slashiness (nothing graphic), light bondage (implied). o_O
Notes: In answer to a challenge. Three things had to be included: 1)No original characters;
2)Someone must fall out of a tree; 3)Elrond must be embarrassed sometime in the fic whether
through memory or other.

*****
Moonlight and Shadows
by SkyFire

Elrond stood at the doorway that stood between his study and the balcony. He was an elegant
figure as he stood there in his long, silky robes, his hair falling from its clasps to lay in
soft sheets of dark silk about his shoulders.

Also in the room, sitting with regal dignity in a pair of soft chairs near the fireplace, were
the King and Prince of the Elven realm of Mirkwood, Thranduil and Legolas. Both wore robes
easily as elegant as those of the Half-Elf, for Thranduil refused to be upstaged in even
something so petty as clothing.

Elrond listened with only half an ear to what his kingly visitor was saying, as he'd been droning
on and on for hours already about absolutely nothing of importance.

/*When* is he going to be *quiet*? Never has there been an Elf so in love with the sound of his
own voice!/ the Half-Elf thought, somewhat uncharitably. He was somewhat irritated, for he *had*
had plans for the evening, and due to the Mirkwood party's sudden and unexpected arrival, he had
been unable to send word to his lover of the change to those plans.

/I can only hope that Glorfindel does not tire of waiting!/ he thought. /Ai, Thranduil! When
will you get to the *point* of this speech of yours?/

A slight change in the other's tone called him back to himself and he looked over just in time to
hear the king of the Wood-Elves finish off his speech.

"...And so, in view of all of this, I am willing to foster my son here for training in lore and
diplomacy, which I have been told by Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, you excel at."

"Foster?" Elrond asked, blinking somewhat in astonishment. "You wish to foster your son here?"

Thranduil scowled. "Peredhel, I am perfectly capable of understanding the fact that the past is
past, and we must move forward. There has been bad blood between our houses for many centuries.
I am willing to let this pass.

"Be aware, though, that my son is under orders from me to write every week and tell me in detail
of everything he is learning here. And if there is even the slightest hint that he is being
mistreated in any way, or anyone here tries to color his opinions about past events in your favor,
I will not hesitate to call him home." Thranduil looked briefly to his son, then back at the
Half-Elf. "I trust that the Elves of Imladris shall behave properly towards him, as befits his
station."

Elrond nodded solemnly. "The teaching he will recieve shall greatly benefit him, I assure you,
and I also assure you that none of my people will behave in any inappropriate manner-"

A sudden loud rustling of branches in a tree outside, just feet beyond the balcony, drew the
attention of all in the room. The three lords looked towards the disturbance, saw the branches
shaking as if with a great wind.

Then there was a loud *crack* and a startled cry, shortly before both a branch and its startled
occupant fell from the tree to land heavily on the balcony. A moment later, Glorfindel stood up,
a dazed look on his face and a somewhat-worse-for-wear rose still clenched between his teeth. He
wore naught but the soft moonlight, shadows and a small scrap of silken fabric wrapped about his
waist.

Shaking his dazed head, Glorfindel espied his lover standing in his study, staring at him with
wide eyes. Taking the rose from between his teeth, he grinned with a slight apologetic shrug.
From where he stood on the balcony, he could see only Elrond in the room; the other two witnesses
were hidden to his sight.

"Elrond!" he called cheerfuly, holding out the battered flower. "My love!"

Elrond closed his eyes in shocked horror at the sight before him, a near-mortal embarrassment
running through him. /No,/ he moaned silently to himself. /Not this. Not right now!/ He tried,
with small, furtive hand-gestures, to tell Glorfindel without speaking that he should be quiet,
that others were there. /Not now! Not in fromt of Thranduil!/

Glorfindel was somewhat confused by the other's slight gestures for... what?? /What is he trying
to tell me?/ Then he mentally shrugged his shoulders. /Surely, if it was all that important, he
would speak of it aloud!/ "You were late, so I thought it was perhaps time for the 'Vicious
Raider' to make an appearance, bind you in silk, spirit you away from here with me and have my
'Wicked Way' with you...."

/Why is his face flushed so?/ he wondered. /It's a game we've played often enough before.../
Then he finally realized, with a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, what Elrond
had been trying to tell him. He closed his eyes with a wince, feeling the blood rush to his face.
He took two careful paces closer, the steps taking him into the doorway, then cracked open an eye
and peered into the study.

Thranduil and Legolas were staring at him in shock, eyes wide and mouthes dropped open in
disbelief, opening and closing soundlessly like beached fish.

Then Thranduil stood abruptly, his face flushing an angry red. He glared at Elrond. "*This* is
what you would deem 'appropriate' for my son to learn?" he yelled. "We were right to stay far
from your tainted people, *Half*-Elf! No son of mine will stay here, where such perversities are
encouraged!"

With that, Thranduil grabbed firm hold of his son's arm, yanked him up from where he sat, still
staring at Glorfindel, this time with a considering look in his eyes. Seeing *that*, Thranduil
clapped a hand tightly over the young Elf's eyes, ignoring his dismayed cry, and pulled him after
him from the room.

Still staring at each other in dismay, the two Lords of Rivendell soon heard the entire Mirkwood
party leaving the House of Elrond as swiftly as their mounts could bear them.

Once the sounds of their hasty departure had ceased to echo through the valley, a helpless
chuckle escaped from the dark-haired Lord of Imladris' lips, soon followed by similar chuckles
from Glorfindel.

Soon, their chuckles ended and Glorfindel looked once more to his lover of many years. "And now?"
he asked, quirking one golden eyebrow in question.

Elrond returned the smirk. "I believe you were about to try to catch me," he said softly. Then
he was off, running out the balcony-door and down into the wide expanse of his private gardens,
laughter trailing behind him.

With a chuckle, Glorfindel took off after him.

END