A shadow lies on Thranduil and his forest, and only a power stronger than the darkness of old can save them.
Grief and loss have turned him into a king with a heart of ice, and if he is ever to find redemption, the chains of guilt and remorse holdin...
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Some truths are gentle, forgiving and kind Some truths are hard to define. (Sleeping At Last: South)
The clatter of plates and the compelling aroma of freshly cooked meat seeped into Anna's dreams, twisting them into the strangest mixture of trees and food. When an ear-splitting lightning struck a mighty oak and she felt herself tumbling backwards with its shockwave, the splintering of wood took on the bell-like tinkling of glass and silverware, the forest-fire smelling gradually more like roasted meat than burning wood. She shifted in her seat and squinted through one of her eyes only to find a myriad of tiny flickering flames dancing all around her. For a moment panic gripped her. It couldn't be real, how could the fire have followed her?
She sat bolt upright, her eyes now wide and she saw that she had awoken to a sea of candles that flooded the room with a golden light. Innumerable candles of various shapes and sizes were burning merrily in candleholders that had been placed all over the furniture. It took her only another instant to realise that this was not even her room at all. These were the king's chambers and she had been trespassing, snooping around in his privacy, the proof of her insolence still clutched tightly in between her fingers. What madness had possessed her to indulge in such a scandalous adventure she could not even fathom anymore. She only wished that the blanket might turn her somehow invisible, so she could sneak back to her own rooms unnoticed. But of course, this wasn't going to happen, the blanket didn't feel remotely magical and only brought another disturbing question to her mind. However did it find its way around her? She took a careful look at her surroundings. The chair facing her was empty, but had Thranduil's burgundy robe draped around the backrest, his black boots standing by the fireplace. This most likely answered the question of the blanket. Thranduil must have found her indeed and the fact that he had not woken her up to send her back to her rooms must mean that he wasn't angry with her, or at least not to a degree that would make him do something he might regret later on.
The commotion emerging from a hidden corner of the chamber had come to an end and only muffled voices could be heard, then silent footsteps and a door being opened and closed. Anna still did not dare to move and now that the reality of what was about to ensue began to sink in, she had to admit that she wasn't really ready to confront Thranduil with all her messed up feelings. The wild concoction of ire and passion burning in her heart was all too painfully present. Maybe if she pretended that she was still asleep, she might be able to sneak out after he had gone to bed and spare herself an embarrassing scene. Although she reminded herself that this would most likely not work, as elves never slept like humans, so she scratched the sneaky and stealthy idea from her mind. Then the only other option was to take the offensive and just make herself noticed so Thranduil would come to her side.
°°°°°°°°°°
"It seems that you have taken a liking to my chambers," came Thranduil's deep voice suddenly from above.
