"Enter," called a practiced voice from within, and Taú, the Silvan captain walked inside. It was a beautiful room and the elf could not help but look around in awe. The high stone walls were covered in vertical tapestries depicting great battles and scenes of bygone heroism, and he stood now, before one particular rendering.

Erestor watched him with a veiled smirk of pride. The room often had this effect on those new to it, indeed the captain had stopped before The Last Alliance and, more specifically, the figure of Oropher, who charged across the open field with his Silvan host in tow – 'the fool,' spat Erestor to himself. The arrogance irked him even to this day, yet it was providence perhaps, that the figure upon the charging horse wore armour, including an intricate helmet that hid his features, features almost identical to those of Taú, who had, by now, managed to rip his eyes away from the battle, only to rest them upon Erestor.

"Ah, I trust you have rested well?" asked the councillor confidently.

Legolas looked at him as if he were daft. "Nay, my Lord, we did not rest," he answered shortly, his irritation rising once more.

Erestor started as if only just realising he spoke to a living elf. But before he could answer, Elrond and Glorfindel entered the room, immersed in conversation.

"Ah, Captain Taú. You rested I assume?" asked the general.

Legolas' nostrils flared and he looked down in an effort to cool is temper.

"My Lords, we did not sleep well, we did not eat, and only by the grace of your good self, were we led to the baths. If it pleases you, we will deliver our missive and await your instructions, before returning to our lands at your earliest convenience."

It had been respectful, for the most part, save that it was clipped, and Elrond's left eyebrow rose in surprise. This Silvan had no bridle, words tumbled from his lips without the slightest of filters, realised Erestor. He was bold for a captain, which was probably why Thranduil had him in his service, he mused.

"You are being ill-treated then?" asked Elrond, after a brief hesitation.

"We are not being treated at all, my Lord. We are simply being ignored at best, and insulted at worst," he added.

A voice spoke up from the open door – Elladan.

"Perhaps that was because you threatened to stick a sausage up one of my lieutenant's behinds!" he said lightly, and Glorfindel's eyes bulged.

"That, was because he insulted us first! He told his captain to lead us away to another table because we stank of orc!"

"That is no reason to..." began Erestor, before Elrond held up his hand for silence.

"Enough," he said calmly as he spared a glance at Glorfindel.

"I see we have not set off on the right foot, captain. If you feel offended, I ask for your forgiveness."

Legolas simply nodded, but remained silent.

"Come, sit with us if you will Captain. My sons are recently returned from the wilds."

"My Lord, I will gladly sit with you, but would you please see that my warriors receive breakfast?" he asked, thoroughly peeved.

"Indeed, yes, well. Erestor, see to it, will you. I will have no further incidents with our guests," he said, waving his robed arm, and Erestor nodded sourly as he left to do his lord's bidding with one last, lingering look at the foreigner.

"Please," ushered Elrond as he signalled to a round table before a large window. Legolas sat slowly and found the lord's inquisitive eyes already upon him.

"Wine?"

"No, thank you. I am on duty, my Lord."

"So you are. May I see the message you bear?"

Legolas nodded and stuffed his hand inside his hidden pocket, pulling out a carefully folded and sealed parchment. However, as he handed it over, it fell from his once more numb fingers and Elrond scowled.

"Did you visit the healing halls, Captain?" he asked as he picked up the parchment.

"I do not know where they are, my Lord."

Elrond held his gaze once more, again catching Glorfindel's blazing blue eyes. His general was annoyed, and quite frankly, so was he. And yet he could not let that show, he thought, and so he broke the seal and unfolded the crisp paper, allowing his eyes to finally fall upon the fine Tengwar of the Elvenking of Mirkwood.

Long, silent moments passed by, and Legolas stared at the lord's face, while Glorfindel pretended he was busy with a document that lay open before him.

"I see," was all Elrond said, before folding the parchment once more, and stuffing it into a pocket in his tunic.

"Come," he said simply as he stood, and left his office with Glorfindel at his side.

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Hours later, Elrond sat in his private office with Glorfindel and his two sons. They had spoken long on the intelligence the brothers had garnered, and had decided on their defence strategy for Arwen's arrival two days hence.

"And what of our Silvan visitors?" asked Elladan as he poured more wine for his brother and himself.

"Quite the fiasco, Elladan," said Glorfindel. You know it irks me that the wisdom of the Noldor does not extend beyond their own people. We wax intolerant it seems."

"What happened in the mess halls?" asked Elrohir as he crossed his booted feet before him. "Something about sausages and backsides, I hear," he added as he sipped on his wine.

"It seems Elhilor 'forgot' to usher them to the baths and to collect them for the morning meal."

Elrohir snorted. "Well you can hardly blame them, I mean they did stink..."

"Elrohir," said a surprised Glorfindel. "They stank of orc because they neutralised a group of twenty that had been lurking along the borders, and this, is how we treat them for their service? They even took injury and were not offered any assistance whatsoever. I, for one, feel ashamed – we have not even thanked them," he said challengingly as he held his lord's gaze.

Elrohir simply shrugged his shoulders as Elladan looked into his goblet of wine pensively. Elrond however, observed his second-born son with knowing eyes that shone with reluctant understanding.

Elrohir was becoming arrogant and over-confident, and Elrond had so far been incapable of rectifying his attitude. Elladan was different, more like himself, in that he was given to reason and patience.

He would have to work on this intolerance, for it seemed that soon, reconciliation between the Noldor and the Silvan people could well happen. Thranduil's unexpected missive had quite thrown Elrond, albeit it had pleased him. However, years of rule in Imladris had made him skeptical, and he had not been able to avoid wondering what it was the Sindar king would want in return for the talks he had proposed for the following summer.

"I cannot help but wonder at this Taú," said Elrond, thus breaking the uncomfortable silence. "He seems – confident in a way I would not expect from a messenger. There is a certain sense of authority about him," pondered the lord, almost as if he spoke to himself. "And then, the healers report that he wears a rather intricate armband high upon his bicep, they saw it as they treated his shoulder. Not many captains can afford jewellery like that."

"Perhaps he is the son of a Lord," said Elladan.

"Aye, that would make sense. He certainly has no qualms about speaking his mind," agreed Glorfindel. "Rather like Thranduil as I remember him," he realised.

"Indeed, it seems the Greenwood raises them brash and hardy," said Elrond.

"Are you going to accept the talks in summer?" asked Elladan.

"Oh aye, I will accept them – I would not miss it for the word," he smiled.

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Benár, Dorán and Halú sat huddled around a long table in the kitchens of the main house. The cooks had sat them down and placed bread and cheese before them. One maid placed a plate of cold meat from the previous night in their midst with a cheeky grin on her face.

"Don't tell anyone, but you all look so hungry and wounded – you should get more than bread and cheese, I reckon," she said a little indignantly. A passing cook tutted at the girl but went about her business anyway.

"Will you tell me your names, then?" she said lightly as she moved around the table, moving this and that around, her considerable cleavage clearly in sight of the warriors.

"Halú looked up and gave her a dazzling smile. "I'm Halú, and this pig beside me is Dorán," he snickered.

She laughed as she swayed where she stood, watching them with dreamy eyes...

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Legolas walked to where he had been told the kitchens were, in search of his elves.

He had been stripped and made to lay down, while Elrond himself had tended to his wounds. It had not felt right to be receiving such preferential treatment when the state of his warriors was still quite frankly deplorable. But it had been a diplomatic question and he had been powerless to refuse the favour. It had been Elrond's way of atoning, he supposed.

Glorfindel had seemed sympathetic to their plight, but the brothers posed a new dilemma to Legolas. Elladan was thoughtful and patient, where Elrohir was fiery and impulsive.

Well, with any luck, they would be out of here and on the road home as soon as Elrond saw fit to send his reply on whatever it was his father had sent. Thranduil had not confided that information to him, for security reasons he supposed. He knew that once he was back, his father would inform him.

As he approached the kitchens, he heard laughing and joking and whistling and his pace quickened. Those were his warriors' voices and he prayed they were behaving themselves...

Alas it was not to be, for the young maid was now sitting on Halú's lap, the warriors arms around her waist, or perhaps a little higher. Dorán and Benár sat and laughed, occasionally reaching out to touch a lock of her hair, or pat her hand.

Legolas mentally smirked, for his elves were flirting outrageously, just as much as the young maid was.

"Have I missed something?" he asked sarcastically, and Halú abruptly stood, sending the girl staggering sideways until she was steadied by Benár.

"Forgive us my – Captain. Just a little harmless chat."

"Chat," replied Legolas with interest.

"Aye," said Dorán. "Just, you know, getting to know the neighbourhood," he said lamely and Halú snorted, before clearing his throat.

The girl watched them in fascination, and then her eyes turned even dreamier, as she brazenly walked forward until she stood before Legolas.

"Do not be angry with them, Captain. They were just being friendly," she said with a smile and a soft brush of her hand over his own.

"Me and some friends are meeting at the lake this evening, and I wondered if you and your elves would like to join us? We could show you around..."

Legolas' eyebrow rose, imagining just what they would be showing them. "You, are not a Noldo," he stated, his face completely straight.

She smiled even wider.

"No, I am not. I, am from Lorien."

And suddenly, Legolas smiled until his teeth showed, and a look of triumph crossed her face.

"We'll pick you up at dusk, then, Captain, at the barracks."

"We will be ready," he said with a dazzling smile and then watched her walk away, her hips swaying exaggeratedly.

The four warriors looked at each other, and Benár flipped his hair with a flirty smile as he swaggered around the kitchen with his hands on his hips, just as the maid had done, provoking raucous laughter amongst them all for the first time since their disastrous arrival in the lands of the Noldor.

At last some fun, they thought, and so without further ado, they sought out the baths once more, for tonight, they would be a triumph, they were sure of it. And yet how strange were the wiles of misfortune - cruel mistress that she was - as Taú and his elves were about to find out.