Notes: Ereinion is the birth-name of the High King of the Noldor, Gil-galad.

Translation of Elvish: Anor - the sun. Laesdôrem - our baby brother. Peredhel - half-elven. Calen Glad - Greenwood, elvish name of Mirkwood. Ada - daddy. Hênethen - my (female) child. Iell - daughter. Naneth - mother. Nana - mummy. Melin chen - I love you. Aye - yes.

Chapter 3 - Good Intentions

"Oro, there is someone out there with a message for you..." Rúmil was again mad at his two brothers. Why did they always get messages and he had not received one yet?

Following his elder brother, he caught the last words of the messenger, "...she expects you when Anor begins to sink again." Catching sight of the little elfling, he added, "As for you, little one, you better return that cloak to its rightful owner." In place of an answer, Rúmil stuck his tongue out and turned on his heels.

Unfortunately, Haldir had just entered the talan at that very moment, and now his eyes were flashing angry sparks at his youngest brother. However, before he could turn his attention to the misbehaving child, he had to greet the messenger, who nodded his head. "March Warden, you better take care of educating him," now pointing at Rúmil, who seemed to try to disappear into thin air. An angry Haldir was not to be trifled with; he had already learned that lesson.

And Haldir's response did not bode well. "I shall make it a priority..." The messenger left and Haldir stepped up to Rúmil. "What have we told you, again and again?"

Big blue eyes met his, and the elfling's voice wavered when he answered, "To respect my elders and not let my feelings get the better of me..."

Orophin, who had been in a haze because of Galadriel's message, now closed the distance between himself and his brothers. "Haldir, he did not mean to be rude. It is just that he treasures King Thranduil's gift and..."

Haldir glared, "And when have I asked your opinion, tôr? It is time laesdôrem learned some manners anyway..."

Had he just called him baby brother? Well, he was apparently asking for it! Swinging his tiny leg, Rúmil hit Haldir's shin hard. "I am not a baby anymore!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. With a pained groan, Haldir attempted to grab Rúmil, but the younger brother was small and quick, easily evading Haldir and sending him to the floor. However, Rúmil had forgotten to hold up the hem of his cloak, and thus landed, face first, on the hard wood of the talan.

Orophin, meanwhile, was holding on to the stem of the tree that supported their home above the forest floor, shaking with laughter. Haldir, struggling to his knees, sent an icy glare his way. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?" Turning towards Rúmil, he whispered dangerously, "You will pay for this, you little plague." This was his cue to leave for calmer waters. Holding his bleeding nose, Rúmil stumbled down the stairs and into the Palace Gardens, seeking out someone who could do something about the steady stream of blood that dribbled from between his fingers.

---

A gentle breeze was moving the leaves of the tall mallorn tree Thranduil leaned against. All around him, the forest seemed to be whispering, lulling him into relaxation and making him forget the question that had troubled him since this morning. Celeborn had hardly graced him with so much as a word, but had asked Elrond to come to his office at some time convenient to the Peredhel. There were matters that needed to be discussed, whatever that meant.

But why had he, Thranduil, been invited if these matters were of no interest to him? He would have left immediately if it were not for other, more pleasant things. Smiling to himself, he recalled the previous night. How perfect Celebrían had fit into his arms, the feeling of her lips on his, the soft scent of Elanor in her hair...

The sound of hurried footsteps made him spin around, and once again he found himself in the presence of a crying Rúmil. No, on second glance, he was not crying, but covering his bleeding nose with one hand while the other held up his cloak. Chuckling, Thranduil made his presence known to the tiny elfling who, in turn, shot him a murderous glare. "Not funny, you know?"

Just like Legolas when he had been in his first fight and came running back to his father, nose bleeding and honour in pieces. As he had done then, he now took Rúmil's hand and led him to a small brook that wound its way through the gardens of the Royal Talan. Urging the elfling to sit down, he took a corner of his robes, wetted it in the cool water and gently cleaned Rúmil's nose. "There you are. No harm done." When he was finished with his ministrations, he sat down beside the child, and, after catching his eyes, asked, "Now, would you tell me what happened?"

Rúmil's eyes widened. Once again Thranduil was willing to listen to him, Haldir's little baby brother. Smiling, he related to the King what had happened between him and his elder brothers, putting extra emphasis on what Haldir had called him. "It was not just of him to do so," the King commented. "You may be young, but no baby anymore. No, you are a little warrior, are you not?"

Chest swelling, Rúmil nodded, "That I am."

---

Behind a tree, Celebrían sighed deeply. This was no evil King who had just consoled Rúmil. Thranduil cared deeply about those who were willing to look beyond his title, who did not believe he was Oropher reborn. Once, she had encountered the late King of Calen Glad when he was on a state visit to the Golden Wood, and the coldness that seemed to surround him had almost frozen her every fibre. But Thranduil was warm and gentle. Even though she had only met him the previous day, she felt more and more drawn to him.

Slowly she moved towards him and Rúmil, a smile spreading over her features as he beheld her. "My Lord," she bowed," Rúmil..." The elfling suddenly looked uneasy again, probably because of her. Well, she had really been rather nasty to him of late. But he had made a habit of showing up at the wrong time in the wrong place. Now she felt how much she had wronged him with her behaviour and vowed to make amends.

"What happened to your nose, little one?" Rúmil shrugged and once again explained what had happened. Before he had finished, Celebrían was shedding tears of glee, her clear laughter filling the air. "Haldir truly deserved this treatment. He thinks himself the centre of the world..." Thranduil shook his head at that, "I think he has shouldered many burdens no one should have to carry at such a young age. I feel for him. No one should be forced into a position like his, no one."

Gazing at the King, Celebrían smiled gently. He was not only talking about Haldir now, but about himself and his father's manipulations. He had been coerced into marrying, had to fight creatures no one in Lórien had ever faced, and thanks to Oropher was thought to be no better than the late King. Tears threatened to well from her eyes, and she turned away to compose herself.

"So, will you protect me from Hal's wrath?" Rúmil's voice cut through the silence. Fixing her gaze once more on Thranduil, Celebrían held her breath. The King had drawn the tiny elfling against himself in a tight embrace and was now softly whispering to him, "No evil shall befall you while I am here. And if that means I have to fend off your brother, I shall do so."

Rúmil was staring into the grey eyes of the elder elf, his mouth opening and closing as if he was lost for words. Eventually he buried his face in the King's robes, and, having turned his head to face Celebrían, his lips formed the word 'ada'. And for the first time, Celebrían cursed his parents for leaving him alone. He was still too young to understand their desire to see Valinor. All he knew was that he had been left behind.

---

Orophin was racing to the small glade where Galadriel was waiting for him. He was late, and if the Lady had already left, Haldir would have to pay. Why did his brother had to choose this very afternoon to discuss Rúmil's manners, or lack thereof, with him? It was not as if he, Orophin, could do anything about his youngest brother's behaviour anymore. He would soon be leaving for wherever the Guards sent him. And then, he only now realised, he would no longer be able to see her...

The Lady of the Golden Wood, who had seemed unattainable until recently. Quite recently to be exact. Once again he began to wonder why Galadriel would even see him, young and foolish as he was. But so far she had shown him only kindness, had listened to him, had endured his proclamations of feelings he did not even understand himself. Until last night. Something had been different. That kiss, that soft brush of her lips against his, had shattered his world and build it anew in the same moment. And deep down inside his soul he began to wonder...

Rounding the final corner, he saw her, the object of his adoration. She was sitting on a bench, her back turned towards him. And what had seemed to be the murmuring of the small brook that was flowing by her feet was now clearly her soft voice singing the Lay of Lúthien. It should have seemed odd that a Lady like Galadriel would sing such a lament, but Orophin was past such doubts. He stood still, intoxicated by the sound of her voice.

Slowly Galadriel rose and turned around, finally realising the presence of another in the glade. Her face, as always, was covered by a mask. Smiling, she extended her hand to him, beckoning him to come closer. The moment his eyes locked with hers, something seemed to pierce his heart. What he saw in the deep pools of his Lady's eyes was confusion and sadness. Had anyone harmed her? Had he himself possibly hurt her without knowing it? "Orophin," she whispered while gazing up at him, "sit with me for a while..."

---

The shadows became longer already when Galadriel rose to her feet. Orophin had told her of many things, some of which he had never ever thought of himself. How he had felt after their parents had left. What he expected his life to be once he had become a guardian. What he dreamed of... No one had ever been interested in him in such a way, and he knew that he would always treasure that afternoon, even after the day that would come eventually. The day Galadriel would send him away.

But something was strange. Why would his Lady care for such things. Surely she knew most of them already. He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see her bowing down again, her lips seeking out his. Startled, he could not do anything beyond enjoying the gift that was given to him again. Before he could break out of his haze and respond, Galadriel drew back and vanished into the shadows between the tall trees.

His hand flew to his lips, feeling the warmth of her. No, things were very strange indeed. That kiss had been unmistakably passionate, no matter how short-lived it had been. And if there was one thing he knew for sure about his Lady, then it was that she loved the Lord Celeborn. Her heart belonged with him and none other.

Suddenly, Orophin saw his own folly and cursed himself. He had fallen for something he could never attain, never reach. And something else became apparent. Galadriel had treated him in a different way during their secret meetings than at any other time. Moreover, his feelings had also changed, unbeknownst to him. Last night, when first she had kissed him, his heart had been filled with a warmth he had never felt before, not even around...

But that was impossible. Pulling himself together, he rose and walked towards the talan he shared with his brothers. Rounding a tall mallorn, he suddenly heard a whimper. Curiosity piqued, he followed the sound, and froze. One of his Lady's companions, Míriel was her name, was leaning against a tree, eyes filled with tears. A white mask lay by her feet. The very mask Galadriel had worn only a few minutes ago...

---

"Hênethen, your father and I have decided that it is time for you to take a husband. And we have come to the conclusion that there is only one possible mate for you, in the whole of Arda, Lord Elrond of Rivendell." Galadriel beamed at her daughter, but her smile turned to a frown when she saw Celebrían's expression. "Iell?"

"Naneth, I ... I cannot. How could I possibly marry him. I do not love him. And there is another..." Casting her eyes downwards, her heart remembered gentle silver eyes, strong arms around her, and the softest of lips caressing hers. She knew without doubt that she had fallen for the Woodland King. How could her mother ask her to forsake that?

Galadriel slowly approached her daughter, and gently placed a hand under her chin. Lifting Celebrían's head, she smiled at her, "We are not asking you to bond with him. Marry him, create a union between our two realms." Drawing a deep breath, she added, "As for the other ... I am sure he will understand." So her child had finally found love it seemed.

"Really?" Celebrían could hardly believe her ears. Was her mother telling her to marry and still continue an affair? But it might be a perfect solution. After all, Thranduil was married as well and had never begrudged his wife her own relationship. When Galadriel nodded, she asked, "What about Elrond?"

Eyes twinkling, the Lady of the Wood responded, "I see a great love in his life, Iell. Why should he be opposed to your finding one of your own?" Something was gnawing at the back of her head, but she dismissed it. True, she did not know who her daughter had chosen. However, she trusted her and knew that Celebrían would only elect someone worthy of her affections.

'Oh, I can think of a few reasons, Nana. For one, he hates Thranduil with a passion...' But somehow it would all work out, and she forced down the feeling of dread that welled from her core as she remembered what she had seen in the Mirror the previous day. It would work out.

---

"I wish you would give him a chance, Elrond. We had hoped that this time of joy might also be the moment for reconciliations long over-due. Ereinion wished for it as well." Celeborn sighed as Elrond turned away from him at the mentioning of the High King. Why did the Peredhel refuse to listen to reason?

"He bewitched him!" Elrond spat. "It was fate that allowed me to share those last moments with my King. Otherwise it would be Thranduil who wore Vilya now." His guilt at having disregarding his Lord's last wish had turned into hatred for the King of Calen Glad. The more he told himself that Gil-galad had been beguiled by the blond, the more he believed it himself.

Celeborn shook his head, "He was the best friend Ereinion could have wished for. By marrying Serinde, he enabled our King..."

"Not you as well. He did not do it out of friendship! He was, and still is, a calculating fiend. Just like Oropher was. There is no kind feeling in that mind of his." He had to believe this, because if it was not so... How would he ever be able to face Gil-galad again if Thranduil indeed was the kind and gentle elf he had taken him for?

---

Thranduil once again sat opposite of Celebrían, gazing at her. Only vaguely did he hear the words that were spoken by their host. But then... Doom fell upon him. "It is with the greatest joy that we announce the betrothal of our beloved daughter Celebrían to Lord Elrond of Imladris." While everyone was applauding and wishing the couple the best of luck, Thranduil's world fell to pieces. No one saw how he rose and slowly left the table. No one except Celebrían.

---

When she had finally been able to excuse herself, she had directly gone to the guest quarters, knocking on the door to Thranduil's chambers. When no one opened, she pushed open the door and found herself confronted with a packing Sinda. "My Lord? Why..." He could not leave, not now!

"I will not stand by and watch you bind yourself to that elf! Have you known it all along? Was I only a final fling?" Hurt shone in his eyes, as well as endless love. "If that is the case, I am very sorry to inform you that you have to find another toy. I will not allow you to play with me any longer!"

Play? She had never played with him. "Thranduil," she whispered, slowly approaching the blond, "I would never, never ever do such a thing. When I first met you I felt whole for the first time in my life. As if I had been lacking something without knowing it. No, this is not a mere fling for me." Blue eyes locked with silver, "He will be my husband, but not my bonded. My heart will never be his." Taking a deep breath, she cupped his face in her hands, drawing him closer. "It is, and always will be, yours, if you will have it."

Startled, Thranduil gazed down at the enticing creature before him. Did she really mean it? Did she truly want him? In her eyes was no lie, only hope and … and love. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, "As mine is yours. Melin chen, Celebrían. Since I first saw you there on the bank." Gently, he kissed her forehead and then, after their gazes had met again, he asked, "Are you certain you wish to be with me like this? You would have to live a lie with Elrond, and only be with me in secret." He dreaded her answer, and hoped for it at the same time.

A blinding smile lit up Celebrían's features, "Naneth spoke of love in his life as well. He will be too busy with his own lover to realise that I am away. Aye, I wish to be with you, no matter what the circumstances might be." Kissing his cheeks, she rested her forehead against his, "Melin chen, Thranduil."