Ten years before the events of Fellowship of the Ring...

"Utter madness," Elrond muttered, annoyed with himself. Insanity was the only reasonable explanation for his behavior.

Seeing to the comfort of new guests in Imladris was a normal part of his duties, practically stalking attractive female newcomers was certainly not. And yet, he was still doing it. The unbecoming behavior made him feel guilty, as did the traitorous ache in his loins watching her caused. Rampant lust just wasn't proper for a host toward a guest he'd met only two days before, and who happened to be younger than his own daughter.

His Woodland visitor, Anniel, explored Imladris with such innocent delight. Each newly discovered flower or spectacular view was greeted with joy and wonder. Elrond never realized just how much he and his people took their city for granted having Rivendell in all its glory and bounty unchanged for hundreds of years.

Ti be fair, Arwen offered the tour, but here he was following Anniel through gardens and past waterfall fed pools like a lovesick whelp. If he started waxing poetic on her beauty, Elrond vowed to lock himself in his study for a month of fasting and mediation to get a grip on the madness.

"Should we turn back?" The golden haired elf turned to ask him, her eyes very large and very green.

Elrond shook his head, "Not unless you've grown too weary to continue your exploration. We haven't yet reached the uppermost garden. It's just ahead, over the top of the rise."

And so it went, his guest delighting in all she found and Elrond trailing behind and secretly delighting in her.

"Lord Elrond is pouring my favorite vintage tonight," Haldir said. "I thank you." He gestured his goblet in salute.

Elrond smiled. "You have excellent taste. This vintage happens to be my favorite as well."

"I can't help but wonder if it is a coincidence, or if you are plying me with excellent wine to some purpose..."

The Lord of Imladris laughed, stretching his booted feet to rest casually on the edge of the fire-pit's stone wall. "What sort of plot do you imagine I am hatching, mellon? And to what end?"

Haldir took another sip of the wine and rolled it on his tongue before answering. "It occurred to me you have not visited Caras Galadhon in some time, and might be seeking gossip. Perhaps word of a certain young Ranger who holds a special place in your daughter's heart. Or news of a certain grey wizard who tends to wander and get himself into mischief?"

"It can't be two companions sitting by a fire and sharing a drink after dinner? Or I could be in need of a new Captain of my Guard and I've decided you are most qualified to fill the post."

Haldir choked on his wine. "Tell me you aren't serious," he wheezed. "Lord Celeborn will flay us both."

"I have better taste in wine than Celeborn. And the invitation to lead my Guard stands, as always. The offer also extends to your brothers, of course. There is room for the three of you here, and we have a selection of lovely unmarried ellith."

The pale haired ellon flinched. It was well known his Lord and Lady thought it past time he and his brothers settled down and selected wives for themselves. "And they'll sing of my love of wine and ellith in a lament when I've been dispatched to the Halls of Mandos for forsaking my oaths to my Lord and Lady for a life of ease and comfort here with you."

Elrond shrugged, still playing with his friend and enjoying their game tremendously. "Galadriel will forgive you. She adores you, as she adores me, maybe even more so than you."

"Enough," Haldir groaned into his cup. "You will not convince me to give up my home in Lothlorien. Now, tell me straight out, what is it you are really after?"

Elrond took a final sip of his wine and refilled their goblets. "Tell me about the guests you have delivered into my keeping."

"What precisely do you want to know? I will tell you what I can of them, of course."

Now that he had Haldir where he wanted him, it felt wrong to be grilling him about his favorite guest. "The fragile one, the golden haired wood-elf girl, Anniel. Where does she come from? Who are her kin?"

Haldir made a sound suspiciously close to a snort, and stopped short of choking a second time on the excellent vintage. "Ai. You've just cost me a kiss from her Ladyship. I wagered it would take you at least a week to inquire about the seldë. My Lady wagered a chaste kiss you'd be asking inside of three days, and here we are merely at the end of day two."

"Am I so predictable?" the Elf-lord sighed.

"Lady Galadriel seems to think you are." Haldir's head fell back against the back of his chair to hide his grin and he stared up at the stars. "I will tell you what I know. She was brought to us from the Elvenking's Halls by Prince Legolas near death from what Lady Galadriel calls a 'shadow' sickness. Her parents are dead. Legolas is her only remaining kinsman. His mother and her father were siblings."

Elrond considered that. "She's not related to King Thranduil by blood, then?"

"No. And from what I've heard from Legolas himself, the poor thing bears an unfortunately strong resemblance to her aunt, Thranduil's lost Queen."

A puzzled frown furrowed Elrond's brow, "Unfortunate, in what way?"

"Lady Galadriel got Legolas to admit looking upon Anniel is difficult for King Thranduil. As such, he has never received her well. When she was brought to Court an orphan, he wanted little to do with her."

"Oh."

Once the reality of what such a thing could mean in the Woodland Realm, especially for someone young and female... "Oh, that can't bode well for her." Elrond thought of Arwen and how she would have faired without him or her brothers, add to it a King who was known for his coldness and it sounded like a pitiable existence. He learned raising Arwen that seldë were a tricky business, female children were temperamental and fragile in turns.

Haldir nodded, sipping more wine. "It was decided an extended period of rest in a place far from the Greenwoods would be best for her recovery."

"Do you think Thranduil will send someone to fetch her home?"

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "What the King wants is irrelevant. If she were to return while the Shadow still poisons Mirkwood, Lady Galadriel is certain she would die within months."

"Are others dying in Thranduil's court?"

Haldir shrugged. "Of this, we have no knowledge and Legolas would not speak of it."

"Most of his people are of Silvan blood. Anniel is not. Perhaps they fair better against the poison which festers up from Dol Guldur and taints their land." Elrond found the possibility filled with irony. "Silvan elves have ever been treated as inferior for being younger, more warlike, not as civilized. Perhaps, they are simply more resilient and we have grown jealous of their strength."

"I'm not jealous," Haldir grumbled. "There is something else. The first night she was attended by my Lady, Galadriel swears the girl died and was sent back to her body by Mandos himself. There was magic at work far beyond even the Lady of Light's healing skills."

"Now, I believe you are truly in your cups," Elrond chided him. "No Elda is shut out of that particular Hall."

There was a sardonic twist to Haldir's mouth. "I fear the Halls of Mandos are full, and the rest of us are out in the cold dark void, now. The Shadow has claimed more than its fair share in the last ten centuries."

Elrond upended his cup into his mouth, drinking deeply, because if they were going to speak on this subject, he would rather join in Haldir's intoxication. "I'm sending everyone who will go away to the Grey Havens. Including Arwen, if I can but convince her to heed me in this."

"The end approaches, all can feel it," Haldir agreed. He set his cup on the table and it wobbled for a few seconds before settling on the wide base. "Will you go with them?"

"No. My work here is not yet finished." Then, the Elf-lord added, "It was my failure to act which allowed Sauron to get a second foothold in Middle Earth. If I'd taken the One Ring from Isildur by force, when I was given the chance, maybe more of our people would still be in Middle Earth and not awaiting a time when they can be reborn into flesh."

Haldir shook his head, disagreeing with the elder's assessment of his failure. "Or maybe it would have brought about even more death in a full out war with Men." He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "I have a hard time believing in rebirth for our kind," Haldir confessed. "We haven't had a child born in Lothlorien for over five centuries."

"It is the same here. The few who are brave enough to try begetting a child find the vinë is lost long before it was ready to be born. The Eldar are at an end, it seems."

"If we are to fall to Shadow, I say we do it with sword in hand and Orc blood on our armor."

Elrond's mouth quirked at the corners in an almost smile, "I agree."

"Admit it... You like Anniel."

"I admit nothing," Elrond groused, not willing to make it real by acknowledging the attraction he was still fighting tooth and nail.

The younger ellon chuckled, smirking and raising his eyebrows, "You won't be able to deny it forever. There is no way you won't fall to her eventually, sweet Anniel shines as brightly as the combined light of every star on a clear summer night."

"And I thought I was terrible at waxing poetic."

Haldir sniffed. "I may be drunk, but I know of what I speak."

"Would I be cutting in, if at some point, I asked Anniel to dance?" By dancing, he meant the dance of courtship, and ultimately seduction, of course.

"I cannot make a claim on a Lady who has never been mine. It might be a good idea to direct such a question at my Lady Galadriel, though. She grew quite fond of Anniel, and the elleth of her."

Elrond had to work to keep his inebriated brain from conjuring images of the two blonde females growing fond of each other in Galadriel's bed, but he had a bad feeling such images were going to appear in his dreams, now. If that was to be his punishment for asking too many questions, so be it.

"If you'll excuse me, my Lord, I find I suddenly need to seek my bunk."

So Haldir, it seemed, had the same unbidden images in his head, too. "Pleasant dreams to you, mellon," Elrond smirked. "I think I will turn in as well. See you in the morning."

"Afternoon, more like."

"I will have a tray sent in for you. Stay abed as long as you like."

"Have you decided to test me, my Lady?" Elrond asked, mind to mind. His head ached this morning from last night's wine. He was sexually satisfied, by his own hand, yet his fascination with his new guest remained undiminished.

It could only be a test of some sort; the question was why him and why now of all times?

There was a small delay in her reply, perhaps Galadriel was busy at some task, but he felt her puzzlement before he heard the reply in his mind, "In what way, mellon nîn?"

Elrond sighed. "You deliver temptation into my home, and it is indeed a test, one of willpower."

"If it is of Haldir you speak, by all means embrace temptation. So long as he is returned in proper working condition and doesn't take too many years to come home."

Laughing, Elrond said, "We shared two bottles of my best vintage last night and I've yet to see him out of bed this morn. He may be returning sooner than you think and if his head is as stuffed with wool as mine, it may take him years to find the correct road."

"What troubles you, Elrond?" When he hesitated, Galadriel prodded him gently, "It isn't like you to seek wine when something bothers you. Tell me." There was an undercurrent of command and he felt the tug of it, as any decent soldier would.

"Why is Anniel here and not in Caras Galadhon with you?"

Galadriel gave a delighted laugh, like crystal bells in a breeze. "Because she is too much of a temptation for me, as well."

"So you send her here to blind me with her brilliance."

"Anniel is not a test, Elrond, she is a gift given into your safe keeping."

Elrond choked on a sudden feeling of dread. "You've given me such a gift before, my Lady, and I utterly failed in keeping her safe."

That was the crux of the matter, he'd loved someone once, and she'd been nearly killed and he'd been unable to completely heal her, even with his skill. There was no choice for his wife except to leave her home and husband and children and sail from the Grey Havens into the West to find healing from the more powerful Valar. It was all his fault.

"Anniel is not Celebrian, they are as different as night is from day. And my daughter's fate was her own and not the result of any negligence by you."

"If I had sent more men that day..."

Galadriel sighed. "You would have lost men you needed to keep everyone safe and her fate would have been unchanged."

"You can't know that," Elrond snapped, testily.

"I do know it, Elrond Half-elven, and you forget yourself. My ability to See is unmatched in Middle Earth. I should be offended you have to be reminded of the fact."

Elrond hadn't meant to give offense, Celebrian was a touchy subject for him, even after all this time. "I offer my sincerest apologies, my Lady. I should have known you would look into all possible roads."

"I accept your apology for doubting my abilities, but I'm not so quick to forgive you for thinking I would send a beautiful woman to test your hospitality, or to cause you suffering. If Anniel is unhappy, there will always be a place for her here, but Lothlorien is only a stop on her journey. We would be wrong to keep her from becoming who she is meant to be for our own selfish reasons."

Elrond winced at her censure. "My desires are entirely selfish," he whispered.

The feel of Galadriel's amusement was a surprise. "Have you looked into her future, yet?"

"No."

"Perhaps, you should."

"Sounds like a terrible idea."

Galadriel made a sound suspiciously like a stifled giggle, but High Elven ladies never giggled. "Afraid?"

Was she really goading him by calling him a coward? He had no problem admitting it. "Terrified. And you and Lord Celeborn can enjoy it while it lasts."

"Celeborn is of the opinion you've long needed someone to shake you up. It's never good for an old Elf-lord to hold himself apart from joy for too long." They both knew it led to fading and ultimately death.

Now, it was Elrond's turn to take offense. "I am not fading! There is too much to do. I don't have time to fade. Tell your husband he can go..."

"Peace, Elrond," Galadriel soothed his flare of temper with her gentle tone. "It's permitted to be selfish once in a while, your solitude is indeed unhealthy, and love always does more good than harm."

"I'm not going to look."

"That is your choice, of course." Galadriel started to release their mind link, but before it was completely gone, he heard her say, "Sometimes surprises are pleasant ones."