To Live Again: Waiting Between Worlds {Lord of the Rings Fanfiction}

2. Adiemus

The Woodland Realm: Halls of the King. SA 3441

~x~X~x~X~x~
'Love is not a feeling, it is an act of will!'
~x~X~x~X~x~
{Clara POV}

I know I'm dreaming, simply because I can feel the falseness of the world around me. It's not real, but that doesn't mean I can't take comfort in it - our dreams are the only places we can draw near to one another.

I can sense him here, in the wild familiarity of the portion of our wood that belongs only in our memories; for it is much too vivid, and much too vibrant to be real, like acid colours that fuse together making it much too difficult to focus on anything in particular. I just know he is here, and all I have to do is reach for him. Once I focus on our bond, and the clarity and strength of his own spirit, I can see him.

Thranduil waits for me, much like he always does, in these quiet times. He is only how I prefer to remember him; without armour or laden down in regal robes reserved for ceremony. In my mind's eye he is just his carefree self, in nothing more fancy than a loose tunic, and barefoot with untethered hair. There is sadness to his countenance that I don't quite understand, and the closer I get to him the more I feel an intense brokenness surrounding him.

He doesn't speak...why does he not speak?

I reach out and touch his cheek, as I do his face contorts in anguish and I panic;

'Clara, I am sorry...I failed.'

'No...no you haven't,' I attempt to soothe, and I smile brightly for him as I stroke his face, and lay a hand on his chest; 'Whatever it is that troubles you, it will pass, you will see...there is nothing to fear now.'

To my delight he returns a small smile, and I begin to hope that all is well. That whatever has him frightened has passed, and he can refocus again. He leans into me, and I to him, but before our lips can touch a shocking pain rips through me...or us...I don't understand it? Thranduil lets out an agonized groan, and suddenly he is fading from me and I can't hold onto him!

'Thranduil...Thranduil what is it?' The voice in my mind screams with such force, that I can barely focus on anything but the fact that his light is slipping from me. This is not right...he simply isn't parting from me, something has hurt him. I attempt to reach out to him again, but when I focus on my hand that rests on his chest, I find that it is soaked with blood...his blood.

'I am so sorry,' His voice echoes like a whisper in my mind, and I can barely hear it.

'Thranduil no...no...don't you dare! Please, don't leave me now...you stay with me...you stay right here!'

My incessant pleas echo into nothing, as the dream shifts and all I seem to stare at is a lifeless body on the cold stone ground. I crumple around him, and try with every ounce of my strength to hold onto this dream...to hold onto his spirit. But he isn't trying to stay with me...why won't he stay?

The more I wrestle with our bond the more I feel great and bewildering pain. It is not physical, nor can it be likened to an injury I can ever acquire. The pain is what I can only assume as the tearing apart of oneself. I feel like my very being is being ripped apart piece by agonising piece, but I won't give it up that easy! The more I fight, the more overwhelming the pain becomes with each tiny rip of my spirit self, until I can bear it no more;

"Nooo!"

The blood curdling scream from my own lips shocks my body awake, and suddenly I find I am tearing myself from my own bed, in the room I share with my husband, in the peaceful night of our Kingdom.