Within Dreams [A Legolas love story]

Reparations--Fourteen years old

I materialized into my clearing for the first time since the "accident" of casually running into the Elvenking while I was arbitrarily gallivanting around the Greenwood while masquerading as an elf. 

It had been a few weeks, surprisingly, which was not usual for my successive forays into the hidden forest. Fortunately, (although maybe I wasn't overly confident about the whole situation), at least I had recently turned fourteen, which somehow I thought of as a talisman. 

Nervously, I checked that my bow had not been lost/stolen/taken from me because I was "not worthy" anymore or whatever. Almiraë was securely strapped to my belt, as was custom, and even my hair was still braided somewhat presentably. Although Almiraë had been my first perfect shot last year, I had mastered the bow and arrows relatively quickly. What might have helped was my sudden inclination to "take archery lessons" because "it was cool" and luckily my mother had no objections. 

Naturally, I could not suddenly announce a desire to take knife throwing classes lest my family think I was the next psycho schizophrenic who showed up in K-Mart in a gorilla mask wielding a sizable dagger. 

Regardless of however humorous this scenario appeared in my head, as I silently padded through the trees in my new boots, I worried that the usual punctuality of Faewyn was nowhere to be seen. (About the boots: I had recieved them a few times ago after successfully shooting a very intimidating spider the size of a house cat) Anyway, I kept on, meaning to walk towards Faewyn's house, but stopped, thinking. 

Suddenly, a rash, precarious idea came to mind. I had technically disrespected the Elvenking. 

Shouldn't that warrant an apology? 

I half-smiled as I turned my stride down the fateful path towards the heart of the Greenwood. I could see where it had not yet healed, unhurried as I was on my way. A mentionable amount of trees still clung to blackened roots, and where a small beam of sunlight did not reach, a weak butterfly was mired in thick mud that had enveloped a new, sharply chartreuse sapling. Faewyn had previously explained the forest's previous sobriquet with a sad, resigned gaze. 

Mirkwood, she had said, although strong, would always bear the scars of its past. 

With this pleasant notion, I continued on, making sure my keen ears and eyes were on high alert. I heard a familiar call, and smiled as an orange bird of whichever sort chased after a dragonfly, chirping indignantly. After a rather uneventful period of walking, I came across the river, where a small group of elves was conversing amiably under the protecting branches of a steadfast oak tree. Most had smooth brown hair, variating from almost honey-colored to one with thick locks of chocolate. Two stood next to the tree, tall and watchful, though somehow they still managed to participate quite actively in the conversation. The remainder of them rested on what appeared to be tree stumps, though I realized they were mossy benches overgrown with a gentle carpet of wild ivy. With a start, one of the elves turned to utter a melodic laugh, and it was clearly Faewyn. She had turned to an almost-redhead elleth in response to a banter that was tossed about by the others. I walked through the bushes and inclined my head.

"Iston i nîf gîn (I know your face), Faewyn Calathiriel," I spoke gently, walking towards the elves. Faewyn turned, tossing her stark locks behind her.

"Nae (Alas)! Gianna!" she exclaimed. She got up from her place and embraced me. "Tolo, govano ven, (come, meet us)," she insisted. "Areth," she continued, motioning to the almost-redhead.

"Na hi mellon-nin, Gianna Davidiel," Areth inclined her head.

"Mae govannen," I returned. The other elves returned the greeting as Faewyn introduced me to the six of them. After the flurry of introductions, I pulled Faewyn aside.

"Faewyn," I said, rather uneasy to know. "What happened last time?" She lowered her gaze and bit her lip.

"The King was startled that you had disappeared, and although you bade him farewell he got irritated and sent two of his guard with me to see if we could find you. I told them...I told them you would not return until your dreams took you here, but they refused to listen."

"I am sorry," I said. "At least you didn't have to be interrogated or anything, right?" At this my friend looked away and did not reply. 

"Faewyn," I murmured. "I am sorry. Truly, forgive me. I did not mean for you and your family to suffer for harboring me."

"It is all right," she sighed."Everything is fine now, they only asked us for how long we had known you, among other things."

"Wait, but your father..." I said, suddenly remembering that Calathir worked in the evening shift of the King's guard.

"He was not held accountable for anything. We told them what was, that you appeared near our home hungry and lost so we have cared for you for the last almost-four years."

"And they were fine with this?" I said skeptically.

Faewyn uttered a small laugh. "Of course! The King's Guard is far from hostile. Even the king, with his"--she lowered her voice--"hot temper, he is not mean or controlling."

I sighed, relieved. "Thank Eru for that," I said, employing the name of the Elven deity.

Faewyn smiled and said "Well, it is good to see you."

"I didn't know if I would be back," I admitted sheepishly. Two weeks had been far too long, the longest, in fact, since I had first come into the Greenwood.

"I knew you would," she grinned.

"It's good to see you, mellon nin," I replied. My friend.

"Do you want to sit down?" she queried, motioning to a bench near the river.

Remembering my task, I regretfully shook my head and explained, "I would love to, but I am on my way to an important task, and I must not tarry." Faewyn looked at me, eyes questioning. She came close to me again.

"Gianna?" she asked.

"I have to apologize to the King for disappearing on him," I said quietly, wondering what her reaction would be.

"Gia..." she said nervously. "I do not recommend that. The King may not take kindly to your intrusion. As we say, let sleeping dragons lie."

"But my conscience is awake," I sighed. "I must do this."

"Then as your friend and companion, I will come," Faewyn answered firmly.

"Are you sure?" I asked concernedly.

"Unequivocally," she replied, grinning cheekily. "Besides, my father's position may give us some leverage."

"Then let us be off," I laughed, though still nervous. Faewyn turned to the other elves.

"Boe i 'waen. Na lû e-govaned vîn." she said. I must go. Until we meet again. The other elves bowed gracefully.

"N'i lû tôl, Faewyn," answered one of the elves sitting by the river. He stood and looked at us, green eyes glittering in the afternoon sun. Faewyn inclined her head, and I followed suit. She nodded to me and we ran, darting through the trees to the halls of the King.