Within Dreams [A Legolas love story]

For Tonight We Dance

As I emerged from the tent and looked around, I could see a few structures of buildings, made of the same white blocks we had seen scattered among the forest floor. One of them, a graceful series of high arched roofs and soaring peaked doorways, was the most imposing structure there, and seemed fully built.

"Which building is it?" Faewyn asked, as we walked next to it.

"This is the main study and library," Legolas said. "It is the first building completed here and took several years to raise. Housed inside are several relevant works as well as many areas for studying."

"Is it completely finished?" I asked, gazing with awe at the structure.

"Yes," Legolas replied. "Although at the moment several rooms are used as storehouses while the city continues to be built."

Looking around, I noticed a few men as well, interspersed throughout their elven comrades, discussing building plans or leaning against trees in the shade and talking with their companions.

We continued on, with occasional commentary from Legolas on buildings, but although it was fascinated to see the progress of the city, I could not help but think back to Legolas's quiet affirmation that he had been asked to accept the leadership of his people for a time, something I knew he might never had considered.

For some reason, I had a sudden image in my mind of myself bowing, firelight flickering on the walls. "My Prince..." "Not to me, Gianna. Never to me."

I breathed in deeply, trying to clear my head, but could not shake off the sudden rush of feeling.

"Gianna."

I almost tripped over a rock in my haste to turn around.

Faewyn raised an eyebrow. "I've been talking to you for five minutes."

"You have not," I said indignantly, hoping fervently I was right.

"Very well, at least a minute, then," she conceded. "I asked if you had ever heard of Isildur."

"'I didn't destroy the Ring of Power when I had a chance' Isildur?" I frowned. To my surprise, Legolas tried to suppress a laugh.

"Yes, that one," he said from over his shoulder.

"What of him?" It came out as more of an accusation. Though I knew that Numenor's heirs had been noble and just, Isildur had fallen from that title when his heart was bent by the One Ring in the second age.

"In the days of old, he ruled Ithilien," Faewyn replied. "Before the first War of the Ring, after he and his kindred escaped Númenor for Middle-earth."

"It is a pity that Númenor fell to such folly," I replied. "Was it not true that they became too proud for peace?"

"That is true," Legolas said from the front, pausing and looking back. "They had everything. Númenor was fierce and wealthy, and many men who had grown up there were just as noble as any of the Noldor. Under Elros, the first king of Númenor, they flourished for hundreds of years, and under the next few kings as well. But though they had the reach of the far seas and wealth overflowing form their coffers, the men became restless, for there was one condition to their continued residence on the island, so close to Valinor--they must never sail further West.

"But folly they were, they doubted the Valar's words and power, and dissent among them grew, beginning with Númenor's thirteenth king, Tar-Atanamir. This sentiment gradually increased over centuries of enforcement. Elves became hated rather than esteemed, elf-friends were killed--the Elendili, they were called. Sauron, taken as prisoner from the mainland of Middle-earth by Ar-Pharazôn, more than a thousand years later, was brought to Númenor, but though many disagreed, he became the advisor to the king and then established himself as a High Priest of Morgoth, sacrificing any who opposed him or his ideas... twisted further by the lies of Sauron, bloodshed reigned, and the men pressed West, in search of the Undying Lands. The Fall of Númenor happened just 100 years thereafter, and the world was remade in a way that has not been seen since and most likely will never be seen again."