Lord Elrond of Rivendell smiled at his lover. Morgone smiled back at him, relaxed at last. She had been embarrassed, distraught, and angry when Elrond had caught up with her outside of Thranduil's bathing chamber.

"Where are you going?" he had cried.

"I-- I do not know. Leave me, Elrond. I have lost much this night."

"What do you mean, Morgone?" Elrond had said calmly, moving towards her with his arms extended, but she was not the sort to be comforted and had not stepped into his embrace.

"I have lost the respect of all of Mirkwood, and Lady Galadriel as well. The alliance I had hoped for has perished. I do not know if I may even bring my people into the west, now. They will be stuck in Ingra to die out." Morgone was trying to maintain her calm, but more and more she was failing.

"Morgone, I have already told you that you may bring your people with mine. We will leave Middle-earth together, you and I, though I fear I will not be going for some time. I have much still to accomplish here."

"I know. Thank you, Elrond."

He had inclined his head. "Galadriel will not fault you for this. She sees many different paths for the future, not just one."

"You are certain?"

"Very much so. As for your daughter, you were always one to indulge her, Morgone. Why not in this? I know the son of Thranduil very well. He is practically a paragon among Elves, in his goodness and nobility. Few match him in strength of character."

"I have heard as much. No one speaks ill of Legolas Greenleaf -- and Ciendriel does seem to love him."

"Let them be."

Morgone had nodded slightly. "Still, I would not see them wed."

"Why not? Thranduil would be thrilled. He fears that Legolas will spend the rest of his life prancing about with that Dwarf."

"Do not press me in this, Elrond. Let them be together if they will, but never shall they be formally bound. Elves of Ingra seldom wed. I never did."

Elrond knew that Morgone had loved him once, but he had bound himself instead to the daughter of Galadriel, forsaking her. His wife had gone already to the Undying lands, and many times had Elrond wished he made other choices. He wondered at times if he might be the father of Ciendriel. He did not ask Morgone. She would tell him if she wished him to know.

"Yet you would have wed her to Haldir."

"That is a different matter entirely. Oh, I am furious with him, Elrond. How dare he refuse? I thought he could not."

"You gave him the choice to refuse."

"I should have been more careful in my wording."

"Perhaps, but you will see that this is for the best. Haldir should have had to earn her love, not take it by force."

"He did earn it," Morgone had said quietly. "But he did it too late. Elrond, what will become of him?"

"I imagine he will return to the duties of Marchwarden of Lothlorien, then depart for the Undying lands with Galadriel."

"Take him to Rivendell."

Elrond had not liked that idea. He did not wish to tell Morgone that Haldir had once been his lover, and he had been more trouble than he was worth. "Why?"

"I fear for him."

Elrond had nodded again. He did not question this, no more than he would have questioned a vision of Galadriel. It was then that he had taken Morgone into his arms and kissed her, and she had melted for him. Now they lay together in the spacious room Thranduil had provided for him, enjoying the comfort of the plush, down-filled bed. Thranduil was right. He needed to get new pillows for Rivendell.

"Will you take Haldir back to Rivendell?" Morgone asked him now, her cool fingers trailing down the length of his chest. Damn, he had hoped she would forget.

"I will, if you will do something for me."

"Anything."

"Go to Ciendriel and mend the rift between you."

***

Ciendriel and Legolas sat together in the empty stone dining hall of Mirkwood Palace. They had spread out before them her map, which she had carried with her since they had left Ingra. This was the first time Legolas had been able to have a really good look at it, and Ciendriel enjoyed his enthusiasm. She was in high spirits. They had made love as never before last night after the banquet, feeling safe, completely safe, at last.

"This is amazing!" said Legolas. "There are places on this map which I never knew existed. Are they truly there?"

"I would imagine so."

"I wish to go and visit them, all of them."

"As do I. I have seen so little of Middle-earth outside Ingra, except those parts of it I have passed through with you."

Legolas stabbed a finger at the map. "This cave--"

"Legolas!" roared Gimli, banging the door open. Legolas looked up at him calmly.

"Come in, Gimli. Take a look at this map. We were just planning where else in Middle-earth we should visit."

"We?" Gimli said as he pushed the door closed behind him and came forward to the table where they were sitting, squinting suspiciously at Ciendriel.

Ciendriel took a deep breath as she made the decision. "The three of us. You, Legolas, and myself."

Legolas looked surprised, but Gimli looked pleased. "I always said you were a darling lassie, for an Elf. But the next place we are going is the Shire! There's a wedding to attend to, you know."

"Right," said Legolas, tapping the map with his finger again, "But after that, there's this cave--"

"Legolas!" The door burst open again, admitted Thranduil. "Ah, there you are. And the lovely Princess Ciendriel…and Gimli, son of Gloin, your faithful and constant companion."

"Good morning, Father," Legolas said formally, his finger still pointing at the map as Thranduil approached the table.

Thranduil looked down at the table. "Where did you get that?"

"My mother gave it to me before I left Ingra, to help me find my way to Mirkwood."

"Your mother, yes, yes. She is a lovely creature, but I do hope we can convince her to permit you to wed Legolas. I had such hopes for a big, gala event. A chorus singing ballads to your love, flocks of doves, an enormous lembas cake--"

Ciendriel looked at Legolas, who looked slightly horrified. She spoke quickly. "Legolas and I are happy as we are. We do not need to wed, nor do we wish to."

"At least not now," Legolas added. "We are far from ready to settle down. The whole earth calls to us." His finger was still pointing at the cave on the map. Thranduil's gaze followed the finger.

"Upon my word! The Cave of the Celendrium! Its location has been lost to our knowledge for millennia. Legolas, you know the legend of the harp. This is where it is supposedly hidden."

"So there really is a harp?" Gimli said, squinting again. He gave Legolas an evil look. "I thought it was a tale meant to distract your friends from getting good and drunk."

"It is a legend… is it not, Father?"

"Every legend has its roots in the truth. If you are so keen to see the world, Legolas, why not go there? I confess I would very much like to know myself if that harp really exists."

"Perhaps we shall, then, after we leave the Shire," Legolas said in a faraway tone, finally letting his hand relax.

"When will you leave Mirkwood?"

"Soon," Legolas replied. "Tomorrow, perhaps. The Hobbits are anxious to get home."

Thranduil looked sad. "I am sorry to see you go again so soon. I imagine it will be some time before you return again to your own home. Why do you not stay a few more days and give Gimli a tour of the kingdom? After all, he has come a very long way to see it."

"I would like to see it, too," said Ciendriel. "A few days, Legolas? I--"

"Ciendriel!" For the third time that morning the door burst open, and this time it was Morgone. Ciendriel felt a slight frisson of fear, for she had not seen her mother since she had stormed out of the banquet hall last night. She drew close to Legolas, and he covered her fingers with his own.

"Good morning, Mother," she said.

"You could make ice with that tone, lassie," Gimli said softly, chuckling. Legolas elbowed him in the ear.

Morgone seemed to realize that Ciendriel was not alone. She looked around at the assembled company. "Ah. Good morning Thranduil…Legolas. And…" she looked at Gimli. "Dwarf."

"He is Gimli, son of Gloin, and a dear friend," said Ciendriel, lifting her chin.

"That's right," Gimli said proudly, blushing beneath his beard.

"Good morning, Gimli, son of Gloin," said Morgone in a courteous tone.

"And a good morning to you, too, Lady Morgone, fair Elven Queen of Ingra."

"Now that we have exchanged pleasantries, may I speak with my daughter alone?" Morgone asked, her tone even and light.

"There is nothing you can say to me which may not be said in front of this company," Ciendriel said.

"Ciendriel, please do not embarrass me any further."

Ciendriel felt her cheeks turn crimson and she clutched at Legolas' hand. She opened her mouth to speak in her anger, but Thranduil smoothly cut her off.

"Ciendriel has done nothing to embarrass you, Morgone. In fact, she has proved herself your daughter all the more. She has taken her fate in her own hands. You have done that yourself, and prospered for it."

Morgone softened visibly. "You are kind, Thranduil. And… and I am proud that my daughter has chosen your son."

Ciendriel could not believe her ears. Legolas squeezed her fingers gently.

"Thank you," said Thranduil. "I believe they are well suited."

"Ciendriel, I wish to apologize to you," Morgone said. Ciendriel nearly fell over. She did not think she had ever heard Morgone apologize for anything in her entire life. "I should not have tried to force you to marry Haldir."

"I believe I understand why you did," said Ciendriel. She came around from behind the table and embraced her mother.

"Do you understand why I did?"

"Yes," said Ciendriel, "And do you understand why I refused?"

Morgone let go of Ciendriel and looked over at Legolas.

"Yes," she said. "I believe I do."

***

Peregrin Took steered his bride to be back to their chamber after the Betrothal Banquet. Both of them had been drunk for hours, since before dinner had even been served, thanks to all the toasting, and wine had been served with the food when it finally came as well. He helped Angelica climb up into the bed, then stared up at her from the floor, wishing that the Elves kept their bedding a little closer to the ground.

"Pippin?"

"I'm coming, Diamond."

"Already?" she giggled.

He laughed as he climbed up beside her, falling back on the blankets, his head spinning. "That wine packs a wallop."

"I love Elvish wine," Angelica said dreamily. "Are you going to take your clothes off?"

"I don't know. Are you going to take yours off?"

"They're already off."

Pippin opened one eye, then a second eye when he saw that she was telling the truth. "That was fast!"

"I don't want you falling asleep on me," Angelica said, straddling him. She began unbuttoning Pippin's shirt. He grinned up at her, letting her do all the work.

"I don't think I could," Pippin said, squirming a little bit beneath her. She tossed his pants over the side of the bed. He grabbed her hips as she slid easily onto his readiness, breathing heavily.

How he loved her, Pippin thought. It meant everything that she would be his always. He wanted a big wedding, with all of the Shire present. The Mayor would perform the ceremony, and there would be fireworks. Big ones! And he wouldn't have to wash the dishes…

Pippin gasped and cried out her name, hearing her murmur his in return. She slid down the length of his body and he held her tightly in his arms. Riding on the edge of sleep, something occurred to Pippin, something that he needed to remember to tell Angelica.

In the morning. He would tell her in the morning…