Within Dreams [A Legolas love story]

The Hall of Scholars

We reached the throne room through a series of paths I didn't recognize.

"This is the front entrance," Legolas explained on seeing my expression. "I see you've been here before." 

I nodded mutely, and we continued to follow him. The guards at the massive oaken doors bowed low as we approached, gazing at Legolas is surprise.

"Le nathlam hí," they murmured. (You are welcome here) 

"Eredan, Gladior," Legolas answered, inclining his head in response. We continued through the doors, and it seemed as if a hushed silence had descended on the palace. Thranduil, who was languidly reclining on his throne as usual, looked up when we walked in. His eyes widened slightly at the edges as he saw his son for the first time in a year. 

"My king," Legolas bowed, then looked up and said "Ada." 

"Legolas, ion-nin. (Legolas, my son) " replied Thranduil, smoothly standing up. "Welcome."

"How have been things since I was away?" Legolas asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. 

"Uneventful as ever," Thranduil replied haughtily. "Have you resumed your position in the guard?"

"I just got here!" Legolas protested, scowling. 

Thranduil simply raised an eyebrow. "Well, Prince, it's lovely to see you, but I have some important business to attend to," he continued lazily, looking at me. Legolas furrowed his brow in confusion. 

"What do you mean?" 

I had a strong urge to laugh. I did. 

"What's so funny?" Legolas asked bemusedly. 

"Nothing.." I smirked. "Thranduil, Faewyn, we should go."

Faewyn, reading between the lines, nodded, and Thranduil said casually, "Ah, yes. To the Hall of Scholars. We don't wan't you to run out of time, now do we?"

He herded us through a dim corridor, his silken red cape flapping behind him like the pompous flapping of an ostrich's wings. 

"Ada!" Legolas's voice echoed dimly from behind us. 

Thranduil kept walking. 

"Fine," he said, "I'm coming then!"

Thranduil flashed us a grin in response. 

A few minutes later, we emerged in a huge hall. We must have passed twenty doors, oak and iron and guarded.

"Why is there so much security?" I asked the King. In response, he opened a huge set of doors, throwing them grandly open. I gasped. There were books, books, books, scrolls, and the scent of ink floated in the air like ageless dust.

"The Hall of Scholars," he announced. "Here, in the most advanced library in all the Elven kingdoms, could lie your answer."

"My King, yours is the only true kingdom," Legolas said pointedly.

"Irrelevant," he sniffed. 

Faewyn, eyes wide, turned to me excitedly. She loved books as much as I did. "Thranduil...my King?" I asked hesitantly.

"What is it, pedfirion?" Little mortal. I scowled at him, while Legolas shot me another confused look, which I ignored.

"Why do you want to help me?"

Thranduil looked at me reflectively. "I always...like to understand things. Without understanding, there can be no acceptance, and I can not be a good king."

"Well, I hope we see something," I said, worriedly. "When I leave, I don't know when I'll come back."

Finally, Legolas spoke up. "Why...Mortal?" He asked, peering at me. 

My face grew pink. "Err...I..."

Faewyn grimaced at my uncomfortableness. 

"I'm not an elf," I said, kind of sharply. I looked him in the eye. 

"Oh." he said quietly. "Then...?"

I eyed him shrewdly. "Once I had a dream about Greenwood. Then I kept having them. In short, I come here in my dreams, from my own realm." 

Legolas's blue eyes widened. "So when you wake up...?"

"She disappears," Thranduil finished. "Can we get on with it?"

The Prince turned away. "I can't believe I thought...." he murmured, heading to a low, wooden desk. 

Faewyn and I sighed and began to look.