guiding light // thranduil & legolas

[ seven ]

THRANDUIL

It took a simple tug on the strings of my heart to realize I was in the midst of an illusive dream. Instead of lying down like the last thing I remember before I open my eyes, I found myself seated on a wooden throne raised by a series of steps, a reminder of who should occupy it, the branched crown highlighting all of it as well as a staff right on my arms - my heart faltered - I was back in the Woodland Realm, specifically, inside the throne room.

The Valar must have a reason for constantly testing my own sanity, and in truth I am this close to keeping it altogether. Could I really survive few more weeks in this enchanted realm, when everything reminded me of the greatest pain a husband, a father could ever handle?

I came to earth for one sole purpose - and it is to rest. Finroth incessantly reminded me of the importance of a mere blink; and yet with all the issues being handled by a king, and my own fears creeping in my sleep, I could not do it. Fatigue comes really often, and I almost mastered its art.

This dream - whatever it has in store for me - this is one of them. I fear what it could make me feel. But as always, I cannot do anything about it; wake won't come until I have seen what I should.

Defeated, I waited for the next scene, anxiety overcoming most of my senses. One thing could only calm my nerves - and it is the thought of my son, who I am sure is doing the best that he can to maintain the stability of the kingdom. Do I get to see him here? I wonder. Legolas - especially when he was still a little elfling, an adventurous young boy he is - visits my dreams as often as I take a nap. When it was only the two of us left, he became the sole purpose of my existence; ruling the kingdom was for the benefit of his future; I long to leave him a world where he would exist with no trials and inhibitions. I know how bizarre that sounded, but isn't that what all fathers desire for their children?

I was too caught up in my own thoughts that I did not realize that somebody was calling my attention. He didn't mean it, but I could sense him moving beneath me, maybe hiding underneath my long robes. I raised my staff and ever gently, using its end, ran it where I felt his warmth. He giggled, a sound I have not heard in awhile.

"Hmmm... who must this be? I could hear someone..." I pretended to not know, making my voice louder inside the throne room. Another fit of giggles was heard, and I cannot help but smile. I pretended to not notice his tiny arms cling to my legs. I was about to lay an arm to tickle his armpits, when a voice spoke, startling me.

"Ada? Ada have you seen Niniel?" I was too caught up with the little elfling giggling underneath my robe, that when I looked to see who had called me, I froze in place, tightening my grip on the staff.

Legolas stood beneath the steps, a young elf still, but eyes swirling with wonder and wisdom.

If Legolas was in front of me, then the child right below me is none other than Niniel, my little flower.

Quickly I pulled up my robe - a thick velvet robe with a little bit of gold on the ends - and there she was, frowning. She was how I remembered her the last time I saw her - long, platinum hair covering her crown, chubby cheeks turning a slight of flora, thin lips and brows that could have the likes of mine. Her eyes bright like her brother's - but this time they were furious, her forehead creased into a frown. She let go of her grasp on my leg and stood up, fixing her clothes.

"You're no fun, Ada," she muttered, retreating from the steps. I watched as she grabbed Legolas' outstretched hand. At the age of thirty, she manages to reach the height of Legolas' waist.

"I was looking for you. We're going to have a picnic outside, remember?" Legolas reminded her. 

Niniel looked up to me then, now with a smile, hopeful. "Would you like to come, Ada? Miel baked our favorite lemon tart."