A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

A Symbol of Courage

"Mithrandir, if what you say is true," Thranduil remarked rubbing his thumb across the tips of his other fingers, "Then the world is in grave danger."

The elf king watched the Grey Wizard warily from his chair within the small, secluded alcove off the throne room, his eyes sweeping over Gandalf's wearied form. Thranduil noted the way the wizard leaned, quite heavily, on his staff.

Gandalf nodded his head quickly, absently, his unfocused eyes betraying his strayed thoughts,

Something troubled him greatly.

A piece of information that he had overlooked nagged at his brain, begging to be acknowledged.

But he couldn't figure just what it was.

"Indeed," he finally replied quietly with a sigh (determined to ruminate on these thoughts later), "And I believe that Dol Guldur is only the beginning. Something far more powerful is at work here, though I cannot yet see it."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed slightly and he tilted his head to the side in thought.

"And what if this whole plot with Laketown, Dol Guldur, and The Lonely Mountain-supposing they ARE connected-proves to be a trap?"

Gandalf's gaze locked with the elf king's and a thin, humorless smile formed on his face, his grey eyes flashing.

"Oh, it's undoubtedly a trap." He murmured, "And you've already felt the effects of it, I believe. So, too, has Thorin Oakenshield and his company. And I believe, that we will yet feel more."

"And Thorin does not know of what you found on your search of the old fortress?"

Gandalf shook his head once, a clear indication for the negative. "No, indeed not. Not yet at least. I plan to tell him AFTER they contend with the dragon."

"And you would share this information with me?" Thranduil tried to hide his confusion, but the timbre of his voice faltered, "Why?"

"Because you, above all others, know of this power permeating the forest, its influence, its corruption. And," Gandalf's eyes narrowed in thought, "And you've witnessed it destroy your family as well."

Thranduil's eye twitched for a brief moment, barely long enough for Gandalf's quick eyes to catch the movement.

But, catch it he did. And that small, infinitesimal movement proved that Thranduil understood.

The elf king had not been himself.

He was not still quite the elf he used to be, but he was getting better.

But, what the wizard had spoken was true.

A dark power had closed around him and clouded his judgment, poisoned his mind.

It was the same power he'd fought against with his father so many years ago, the same power that TOOK his father, leaving a still very young elf prince to oversee the welfare of his people.

Yes, Thranduil could see the trap closing in around his people and the men of Esgaroth.

And for the moment, he also held a small shred of pity for the dwarf king's plight.

The question now, though, was what were they going to do about it?

"How are we to complete this...mission...of yours when it is almost certain that The Master has learned of my son's presence within his town? And with the dwarves no less," Gandalf didn't miss the way Thranduil spat the words, "Surely he will suspect something if we were to march down upon them."

"Yes," He conceded, "Yes I had thought of that..."

Then Gandalf smirked.

"And it is precisely the leverage that WE need in order to combat against the current leader of Laketown."