A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

The Fury of Kings

Lyla ghosted behind the group slow and silent, as the dwarves were marched through the massive doors following the path of the elf with the headdress, along a large walkway and past a large ornate iron portcullis, that reminded her of the branches of the beech trees outside, winding around itself in an intricate and deceptively delicate pattern.

Said portcullis slammed shut as Lyla walked past, startling the invisible hobbit who barely avoided being crushed, and a massive 'whoosh' of air blasted around Lyla at the force of the impact. She turned to find the large stone doors sealed shut as well.

She-and the rest of the company-were well and truly trapped inside the Elven halls.

Bother it all.

And, while that information certainly filled her with a sense of trepidation and foreboding, her astonishment grew as she took in her surroundings.

As she followed after the company, Lyla noted the polished walkways, arches and pillars of stone carved with detailed attention, making the stone appear very much like a forest of tall, proud trees undisturbed by time. Winding around these stone walkways and pillars, that stretched outward and upward in every direction, were large roots from the trees above this cavernous home, weaving through the space, connecting the stone and wood together in one harmonious combination of delicacy and power. Lyla noted many smaller beech trees dispersed throughout the hillsides within the Elven halls, as well as the pure and delicate waterfalls and rivers that flowed on either side of her and far beneath the stone and wood bridges.

She inhaled the fresh air gratefully (and quietly) and marveled at the small snatches of sunlight streaming through the ceiling of intertwined branches and stone that encapsulated the entire Elven settlement together. The unease she felt walking through the filth of Mirkwood slowly seeped from her pores, relieving her spirit and lifting her heart even as her throat burned with desire to quench her thirst in the crystal streams she spied.

The elves lead (and carried, for Bombur was still unconscious) their captives upward to a large stone platform atop of which sat an impressive wooden throne, adorned with enormous antlers on either side of the chair and long thin branches that twisted upwards. Leaves and white blossoms surrounded the entire structure, like a halo of earthen paradise, as soft light cast an ethereal glow around the Elf, who had greeted them at the door, and now stood and faced the company.

"It has been many years," The stoic elf murmured interlocking his long pale fingers together, "since I entertained the company of the dwarves."
Narrowed sapphire eyes swept over the blinded dwarves slowly as he studied the pitiful shape her company was in. The elf's gaze settled on Balin's form at the front of the line and with a nod of his head, the red haired elf woman removed Balin's blindfold.

"Tell me," the elf at the doors remarked lowly, gazing at Balin's bruised and wearied face, "What are you doing in these parts of my kingdom?"

Familiarity sparked in Balin's eyes as he gazed at the stoic creature before him, but the wizened dwarf said nothing, his lips remaining thin and pursed.

The Elvenking (for that is what he must be Lyla thought) tilted his head to the side, his gaze going thoughtful. He stepped forward a few paces. His gaze shifted until he was staring down his nose at Balin, a look of suspicion clouding his fair features.

"You refuse to explain why you've trespassed on my land? You refuse to oblige me this courtesy? Why? What have you to hide I wonder."

Balin still said nothing, though a scowl appeared on his face.

His response was clear, even without any words.

The elf king snorted, "You value your pride over comfort and safety I see. Very well," He turned to the golden haired dwarf who'd nearly struck Lyla from the tree (and she noted how similar they looked), "Escort our 'guests' to their chambers, Legolas, if you will," he murmured dismissively, his eyes hardened and he turned sharply on his heel and ascended to his throne.