Elrond wandered into the chambers that he had assigned Gil-galad and looked around, only finding Glorfindel who had wandered in after him. The blond elf was snickering to himself as he rambled on with a very long and involved joke, featuring three dwarves and an inebriated Balrog. Elrond had long lost track of the plot, but had neither the heart nor the inclination to tell him. In any case, there was always the risk that he would start afresh.

Trusting that the King would not mind, Elrond slumped down on the bed in defeat, leaning his perfectly combed head against the carved birds and leaves on the wooden headboard. Glorfindel made his way to the window seat with a high spirited step that was half dancing and half walking, all the while continuing his jest.

The half-elf removed his circlet, tossing it casually onto a pillow and closed his eyes, trying to block out Glorfindel's obvious self-pleasure. It was not that the golden-haired elf's voice was unpleasant, in fact it held a natural music even if the accent was strange at first, but he never ever was quiet.

There was a soft noise in the corridor outside, and the High King entered, his step effortlessly graceful in spite of the large quantity of wine consumed that evening.

"Ah, Elrond." Gil-galad raised his eyebrows as he saw the elf-lord slumped among his pillows, eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose against an oncoming headache.

Elrond opened his eyes with a look of relief.

"I came to seek you." He said quietly, his eyes betraying his hidden disquiet.

Gil-galad nodded and smiled reassuringly. He had been looking for a chance to talk to the half-elf all day, and now, with the events of the evening behind them, it looked as if he would finally get his chance. All he had to do was dispose of a certain blond haired Balrog Slayer, who apparently only thought about his words well after they had left his mouth.

". . .right. And then the Balrog said 'give me your ale and I'll sizzle your sausages', so the dwarves. . ." Glorfindel continued, oblivious to the two remarkably similar glares from those who wished him from the room.

Sighing loudly, Gil-galad decided to wait, tapping one booted foot up and down on the pale grey stone of the floor. He couldn't resist rolling his eyes wearily at Elrond, and was glad when this met with a reluctant grin.

Eventually Glorfindel reached the punch line of his joke, dissolving into laughter so rambunctious that neither of the audience could make out the words. Muttering something under his breath, Gil-galad went to sit on the bed beside Elrond, reaching out a hand to pull the half-elf to a sitting position. Hopefully now they would be left in peace.

"Now was that not funny?" Glorfindel asked, obviously very pleased with himself. Elrond and Gil-galad exchanged a look before generating some surprisingly genuine laughter. The High King could not help but wonder how Elrond had managed to survive untainted by Glorfindel's influence. It was beyond him to understand how anyone would put up with such a sense of humour.

Turning, so that his back was firmly between Elrond and Glorfindel, Gil- galad began speaking in a low voice.

"What bothers you, Elrond?"

Elrond gave him a worried little half-smile.

"You know what bothers me."

"Why did you not just ask her to dance?" Gil-galad asked gently, noting with pleasure that Glorfindel had got to his feet.

Elrond sighed and to his annoyance immediately blushed.

"I couldn't. I just couldn't, Gil."

"She was just as hesitant as you." Gil-galad's eyes were wide with concern, and he nodded slightly as he spoke.

"No, she. . . she would have eaten me alive." Elrond said sadly. "I. . ."

"Oh are we discussing Lady Celebrian?" Glorfindel asked cheerfully, wandering over with an apple pilfered from Gil-galad's fruit-bowl. Ignoring his frosty reception he bounded onto the mattress, and sat down cross- legged, tossing the apple up and down in his hand. He took a big bite and attempted to lick the juice from his chin. "Excellent!"

Deciding that Glorfindel was unlikely to take a hint in this age, Gil-galad decided to enlist him as an ally.

"She would have done none such thing." Gil-galad scolded gently. "She was really looking forwards to dancing with you, wasn't she Glorfindel?"

"Aye." Glorfindel spoke through a mouthful of apple. "Her face fell every time you passed her by."

"It did?" Elrond's voice rose hopefully.

"Aye." Glorfindel took another noisy bite of apple, deciding to embroider the truth for the sake of entertainment. "I have never seen a maiden look so woebegone."

"Glorfindel." Gil-galad said sharply, then scowled at Elrond. "It was most discourteous Peredhil. She was deprived even a single dance."

Elrond's face fell and he fidgeted guiltily.

"I did not intend to." He admitted, flushing deeply. "It is just. . . that. . . I cannot dance."

Glorfindel made a strange noise that ended suddenly as he was silenced by a High Kingly glare.

"Of course you can dance, Elrond." Gil-galad said patiently, patting Elrond's arm.

"I shall teach you!" Eager to make amends, Glorfindel sprang to his feet and bit hard into his apple to free both his hands. "May I have this dance?"

"Uh. . . Glor?"

"Excellent! I am honoured!" Glorfindel grabbed one of Elrond's hands and dragged him to an open spot on Gil-galad's floor.

"What?"

Glorfindel swiftly wrapped an arm around Elrond's waist and began jigging around the room, dragging an unwilling elf-lord after him.

"Glor, no!" Elrond protested uselessly.

"Move your feet, Elrond!" Gil-galad called helpfully. "And keep in time to the music."

"But there is no music."

"Come on, you would think that you had no wish to dance with me from your posture!" Glorfindel whirled Elrond around. "You need to loosen up, Elrond."

Gil-galad nodded in silent agreement, a wise and kingly expression on his fair face.

"Glor, no! That's enough!" Elrond stood stock still, then crashed to the floor together with Glorfindel as a step from the 'Greenwood Frolic' got hooked around his foot.

"Ouch!" Elrond rubbed his elbow with an accusing look at Glorfindel.

"I was only trying to help." Glorfindel muttered. "It is not my fault that you cannot dance."

"But I can dance!" Elrond said in exasperation. "Just not well enough for. . . her!"

"You cannot?" Gil-galad asked with some surprise. He had visited Lorien and danced with Lady Celebrian many a time, but it had never struck him that the success of their dancing had been due to anything other than a mutual ability to remove their feet from the other's path.

"No." Elrond slumped on the bed again, keeping a good grip on a pillow in case Glorfindel should renew his advances. "And I wanted to. . . I would like her to remember me."

"Ah, the delicate art of impressing a lady." Gil-galad smirked. This little chat was turning out to be much more entertaining than he had anticipated. For a brief moment he thought wistfully of fatherhood, then brushed the thought aside.

"You want to impress Lady Celebrian?" Glorfindel plopped himself down on the bed, causing the mattress to groan. "Why, that is easy! Simply take her down to the practice ranges."

"Glor." Elrond sighed. Gil-galad was grinning. Again.

"Or we could tell her tales of bravery and battles. I have never seen someone behead quite so many orcs as you, my friend." Glorfindel paused for a moment with a thoughtful expression. "Of course it would help if you could slay a Balrog. . ."

"Glor!"

". . . but I understand, we cannot all be good at everything."

"Glor!" Elrond shouted, and in the silence that followed continued more quietly. "That is not how you impress a lady. Lady Celebrian is probably fond of things like flowers, embroidery and dresses."

There was a moment of silence as the three warriors bowed their heads and endured a collective shudder.

"So," Glorfindel ventured at last, "how do you impress a lady?"

Elrond looked baffled and shrugged.

"How would I know? Did your father not say anything?"

"No." Glorfindel said in all seriousness. "Only that if he ever caught me skulking by the hidden pool on Midsummer's Eve again, he would ensure that I never knew what it was to love a maiden."

Gil-galad and Elrond looked at him.

"I was only thirty five! How was I to know what they would be doing?"

Elrond muttered something sounding surprisingly similar to 'and he calls me innocent'. Flushed now, Glorfindel continued.

"Anyway he died when I was but a child, what would he have told me?"

Gil-galad, who was still chuckling to himself, stopped suddenly when he realised that two pairs of eyes were now resting upon him.

"My father died too, when I was younger still than our golden-haired friend." He reminded them.

"Yes. . ." Glorfindel said.

". . . but you had Cirdan." Elrond finished. "He is very wise."

Gil-galad shuddered inwardly at the thought of the few awkward conversations they had had on the subject. He had little desire to relive them.

"Aye, and should I put my mind to it, I could successfully proposition any ship I pleased. But I thought it was maidens we were talking about?"

Elrond bashed the mattress hard with his pillow and sighed deeply.

"There is no wonder I have no hope with maidens! I have nobody to look up to, nobody to answer my queries!" Seeing Glorfindel about to interrupt he continued more loudly. "Among my friends I cannot think of anyone who is bound in marriage. Not one. And yes, I daresay I could glean enough information to seduce a ship or a Silmaril. But a maiden, I do not even have a glimmer of hope!"

After his outburst the friends sat, or rather sprawled, in silence on the bed, contemplating what had been said. Glorfindel took the pillow and propped it up against Gil-galad's shoulder to rest his head on. Gil-galad moved.

"Elrond." Glorfindel said sleepily at last. "There is one that you could ask."

"Who?" Elrond demanded.

"I believe that Lord Celeborn is quite happily married."

~*~

Celebrian had slipped out quietly once the dancing had resumed, and had taken to wandering the gardens. It was surprising how beautiful they could be, even in the dark. After a while she had lost track of precisely where she was, but with the bulk of the house lit up behind her, she had nothing to fear.

Eventually she had come upon a bench in a sheltered nook in the garden, and since she was feeling rather weary by then, sat down and watched the moon rise above the valley.

It was simply beautiful here, large pale roses woven around the wooden frame of the bench and coaxed along arches. The pale bluish light of the moon and the dim light from the windows of the house lighted the garden, and she had amused herself for a while in watching the shadows that lay along the smooth paving of the path.

The evening had not been much of a success. Not truly. She had enjoyed the time she had spent with the Lord of Imladris, but although she now knew Glorfindel's views on most everything under the sun, Elrond still remained a mystery. And she had assaulted a duck.

But even apart from that she could not block out the disappointment. She had spent so long on her dress, choosing the things that she had thought most beautiful. And she had truly thought that she had looked quite pretty. She had not asked for the overwhelming attractiveness of her mother, just to be pretty enough to be granted a dance.

A tear ran down her cheek, and by dint of vigorous sniffing, swallowing and eye blinking, she just managed to avoid bursting into tears.

There was a burst of laughter and the sound of running footsteps and a scuffle. She couldn't quite make out the words, but whoever it was seemed to be talking about her father. Curiously she stood up and tried to peep through the shrubbery to see who it was.

There was a muffled shout and Celebrian leapt back as a body came flying through the rosebushes. There was the sound of running footsteps as the assailant escaped. Elrond sat up, brushing down his formal gown, and scrambling to his feet.

"Lady Celebrian." Elrond tried to adopt the look he was sure that Gil-galad would wear under similar circumstances. As if he would ever get into similar circumstances.

"Lord Elrond." Celebrian greeted him formally, then as politely as she could manage. "Are people often attacked in your gardens?"

Elrond noticed that she had moved closer to his body, presumably for safety. She smelt of the tiny yellow flowers that blanketed the ground each spring in Lorien and he wanted to hold her.

"Er. . . no. Only me." Elrond said uncomfortably, then as the moonlight caught Celebrian's face. "You have been crying?"

Celebrian sniffed and shook her head.

"It was nothing."

Elrond looked hard at her and cautiously put his hand on her arm. She felt cold, and since she had not objected to the hand, he moved so that his arm was around her body. Celebrian's heart immediately began beating so fast that she was sure that he must be able to hear it.

"It was just. . . just that nobody danced with me." Celebrian admitted, then lifted her head with a proud air. "It does not matter. I care not."

Elrond smiled slightly to himself and walked Celebrian to a small lawn shielded from view from the path by entwined rosebushes.

"Will you dance with me?" To his frustration he sounded as afraid as he felt.

Celebrian beamed.