A Dream Within Words

Chapter One: Children dream the strangest things.

Summary: A young and very imaginative Legolas soon discovers that dreams are not always formed at nighttime, and that even they can seem unbelievably real and just as dangerous than what they are assumed to be.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone associated with Lord of the Rings, nor with the Golden Compass. I get no profit from making this fan fiction. This is purely fan made. Also, the characters that I have created (meaning the brothers) are mine (duh), and I take great pride in them. If you so desire to borrow them, feel free to ask. - Large quotes by themselves in italics are words taken from the book, simply used for the dream like sequence. Everything else will be improved (to the best of my abilities). Italics with ' shall be thoughts.

A/N: Looking back on all the reviews and favorites I had gotten on this, I really began to wonder on my writing ability. I guess, when I first wrote this, it was something to quell my thirst for writing, although I always seemed to doubt myself, after not getting any reviews. After some worthwhile experiences in my life when it comes to writing, I decided to give this another shot and come to terms with the fact that a review isn't simply for publicity, it's to help improve my skills as a writer. So, after a very long time…here is an attempting on writing this story with a newer twist.

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Dinner in the Thrandruilian palace was, as always, unpredictable. Normally, those who had met King Thranduil and his family would consider them the perfect picture image of what a royal family should truly represent. A stern king who led with a firm hand too control at the head of the table. The Queen, although had just passed away and was now under the loving care of Eru. The eldest son, Hérion was often spoken of us as the right hand man to the King, taking on a rather 'advisor-esque' type of attitude. The serious no tomfoolery sort of young man who strived to be as hardened as his father, yet still retaining the soft features of his mother, as well as his deep green eyes. His young brother, and the middle child, Taurnil, took more or less after his mother's side. Taurnil seemed far more understanding of things, although he wasn't what many would call a pushover. While Hérion strove towards knowledge, Taurnil's ambition was to be a seasoned warrior in his father's army.

Unlike his brother, however, the elf often left his daily life where it belonged and his family life with his family. Last but not least, was the beaming, golden ray of sunshine, sitting next to his big brother Taurnil who sat opposite from his bigger brother Hérion. This small bundle of joy was the last gift bestowed upon the family by the late Queen just before her passing. Legolas was his name. The child (despite the hardships of being the youngest and constantly surrounded by bigger and older people) was a very polite and respectful child, having been taught manners and rewarded for whenever they are used. He was also, as one might guess, the one who mostly caused the unpredictability of the family. When the palace doors were shut, and dinner was ready, was when the mischievous child was ready to strike. Some might say it was due to the troublesome twins in Rivendell. This, however, shall be a story for another time, lest this one never continue.

Late in the evening, and there was peace in the area. Peace that was rare, of course. Dol Guldur remained an ever-present shadow upon the once Green Wood (which, unfortunately, soon was named Mirkwood thereafter). This evening, however, was one that held no worries and would not be taken for granted. The family sat together silently, the soft tinkling of silverware connecting with plates filled the large dining hall. Candle chandeliers hung overhead, casting the area in a warm glow as the family sat, speaking softly as night began to blanket the sky. Conversation soon drifted warmly through the area, bringing attention to the setting at hand.

"The most interesting thing happened today, father," began Hérion as he delicately cut into a small piece of meat on his plate. Taurnil, who was leaned over slightly to assist his younger brother with his own food shared a knowing glance with his favorite ('And only!' as Legolas would so brightly point out) little sibling. Everything interesting always happened, according to Hérion. The two, however, remained tight lip about any comments, opting to give funny looks to one another as their father spoke.

"Oh? And what might that have been?"

And thus, the 'oh so interesting' conversation started.

"I was in the library today," a groan sounded from the two younger blondes, which then erupted in one fit of giggles and the other a coy and innocent smile. Hérion cast his younger brothers a look and then pointedly ignored them. Thranduil too, gave them a look, one in which the two of them obeyed. It was one thing to obey an elder brother; it was a completely different matter when your father gave you 'the look'.

Sighing to himself in an attempt to keep a composed look, Hérion continued, "As I was saying, I was in the library today and,"

"Found a story?" asked Taurnil, smiling softly.

Hérion scowled. "No."

"Drew me a picture?" asked Legolas; snickering at the poke he received from his older brother.

Hérion's frown deepened. 'No."

"Found a book." at this statement, Legolas and Taurnil both seemed to double over with laughter, the owner of the voice smiling lightly at his eldest son who merely grit his teeth and returned to his food. So much for Ithat/I topic of conversation.

By the end of dinner, Hérion stood up quickly, asking his father his permission of leave before casting his younger brothers a green-eyed glare before turning swiftly and exiting the dining hall, blond hair trailing behind him lightly. After a few moments and a rather loud yawn from Legolas, Taurnil stood up as well, picking up Legolas who lightly protested to the notion. He as far too old to be carried by his brothers! Laughing lightly, Taurnil also requested dismissal from the table and turned to leave with his brother in tow, allowing their father a moment's peace at the now empty dinner table.

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A single candle was lit in the small and comfortable room. One small figure lay gently in the bed, casting a stubborn, light blue-eyed look to the elder figure that sat comfortably on the bed. The bigger being stared back, his dark blue eyes glinting in the candlelight. Finally, the larger one blinked, causing him to drop his head in 'shame' as the younger one smiled triumphantly. "You promised," stated Legolas, light blue eyes sparkling merrily as he watched his sibling.

"I know, I know," grumbled Taurnil, running his hand through his long blond hair. Each of the siblings had both their mother and fathers Taurnil and Legolas had slight variations of their fathers blue eyes. "Now, what was it I had to soft blond hair, the only different child being Hérion who had his mothers deep green eyes, while do again?" asked the elder with regret, watching his younger brother warily. And here Taurnil thought Ihe/I was the troublemaker. Alas, that was not to be, for Legolas had him beat. How this happened, he had no idea. Taurnil had met Eladdin and Elrohir long before Legolas, and had known them longer.

"Get ada to allow us to go have a picnic again!" said the young one, a hint of impatience in his tone. He had just told his brother what his proposition was only moments before. His brother remained silent for a moment before sighing and standing up. Legolas was about to start up with some comment yet was waved off by Taurnil. "Yes, yes. Good night, tithen lass. I shall see you in the morning," standing up, the elder blond blew out the candle and gently closed the door behind him, allowing the soft click to fill the silence in the small room. A pair of innocent blue eyes peered out from covers, staring out in the direction of the door before eventually rolling over and falling into the sweet darkness of sleep.

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Something wasn't right. Sitting up, the young elf peered around cautiously, half expecting Hérion to jump out of his closet and scare him half to death. No such thing happened. Biting the inside of his cheek, the blond slowly crawled out of his bed, heading for his door and turning it silently. What he saw in front of him gave him much confusion. Where was the family portrait that was hanging on the hallway wall across from his bedroom? That picture had always been there since he could remember. He didn't remember his mother, but he liked to pretend that she was always there, a comforting presence outside his room, watching with soft green eyes and a kind, compassionate smile.

Yet, it wasn't there. Neither was the cream colored wall that hung on it. Across from his room was another room. Did something happen and he sleep through some sort of construction? Or, better yet, maybe this was a secret door! Excitement soon fell over the young elf as he crept silently across the hall and opened the doorway.

Least to say, the excitement died down when he found out it was empty. Looking around the area, he frowned slightly. This place didn't seem right to the elf. It didn't' seem…elvish. Never in all his three hundred years of living (which is a big thing for one such as himself!) had he seen furniture like this. Stepping over to a chair, he gently ran his hand over the wood, feeling its texture, the different feel of it. It all seemed so…foreign. The only thing that didn't seem foreign was the sound of footsteps languidly approaching the door. Looking around frantically, lest he got caught (for he wasn't supposed to be out and about at this time of night), he quickly went over to a closet door, peering out through a crack, heart in his throat as he watched.

Whispers were heard as the footsteps entered the room. Closing the door, one of them hurried over to the fireplace, starting up a warm and enticing fire before heading off to where one of the other footsteps headed. Blinking against the darkness, Legolas waited for his eyes to adjust, remaining frozen in place. He didn't know these two…what were they doing here? He had never seen these people around the palace. What unnerved him even more was the fact that he noticed by the way their bodies slumped in the furniture around them, that they weren't elf. That was also a given by the fact he heard them walking around.

The first bit of the conversation he didn't seem to hear, due to his heart beat which had been blocking out any other sort of noise. After a few moments, the child began to calm down enough to heart. After all, wouldn't his father want to hear that unknown people were discussing things in his own home?

"Forgive me, Master, but I can't help being relieved. I was never happy about the idea of..."

"Of poisoning him?"

"Yes. Of murder."

"Hardly anyone would be happy at that idea, Charles. The question was whether doing that would be worse than the consequences of not doing it. Well, some providence has intervened, and it hasn't happened. I'm only sorry I burdened you with the knowledge of it."

The elf bit back a gasp, putting his hands to his mouth to keep him from doing anything stupid. Poison? Murder? Who were they going to murder? Surely it wasn't father, right? He didn't do anything to illicit this sort of things. Thoughts racing through his young mind, the elf continued to listen.

"The Palmerian Professor mentioned a name," he said after a minute or so. "Barnard-Stokes? What is the Barnard-Stokes business?"

"Ah, it's not our field, Charles. As I understand it, the Holy Church teaches that there are two worlds: the world of everything we can see and hear and touch, and another world, the spiritual world of heaven and hell. Barnard and Stokes were two - how shall I put it - renegade theologians who postulated the existence of numerous other worlds like this one, neither heaven nor hell, but material and sinful. They are there, close by, but invisible and unreachable. The Holy Church naturally disapproved of this abominable heresy, and Barnard and Stokes were silenced."

"But unfortunately for the Magisterium there seem to be sound mathematical arguments for this other-world theory. I have never followed them myself, but the Cassington Scholar tells me that they are sound."

"And now Lord Asriel has taken a picture of one of these other worlds," the Librarian said. "And we have funded him to go and look for it. I see."

Risking a chance, Legolas slowly put his hands down, moving to part the curtain ever so slightly, allowing him to see more of the room and the occupants. Unfortunately, it was all in vain. The room was dark, and the men's backs faced the fire. The only thing the elf could see was their outline and the shadows flickering like demons on the floor, twisting around for a chance to break free, it seemed.

Questions continued to pop into the elf's head. Palmerian Professor? Barnard-Stokes? Holy Church? What was this all about? He'd heard of a church, yes, he too believed in the Valar and Eru, but this was something he hadn't heard of. Two worlds? Like being awake and being asleep? Heaven and Hell? What were these places? Also, who was Lord Asriel? Never had he heard of that name. He would have to ask father for sure. Then again…what would father care for some human Lord? He needed to ask someone!

"--- has a part to play in all this, and a major one. The irony is that she must do it all without realizing what she's doing. She can be helped, though, and if my plan with the Tokay had succeeded, she would have been safe for a little longer. I would have liked to spare her a journey to the North. I wish above all things that I were able to explain it to her..."

"She wouldn't listen," the Librarian said. "I know her ways only too well. Try to tell her anything serious and she'll half-listen for five minutes and then start fidgeting. Quiz her about it next time and she'll have completely forgotten."

"If I talked to her about Dust? You don't think she'd listen to that?"

The Librarian made a noise to indicate how unlikely he thought that was.

"Why on earth should she?" he said. "Why should a distant theological riddle interest a healthy, thoughtless child?"

"Because of what she must experience. Part of that includes a great betrayal.

The elf found himself moving farther into the closet, staring out at the door with its small crack. Murder should have been the first thing that alerted him to stay away. It was true that it was frightening him, the fact that someone might die…but…what with all this information that made no sense to his young mind, it was all starting to pile up on him. This was unbelievable, it truly was.

No! Not just unbelievable! It was…

A dream.

Sitting up quickly, the elf practically threw his blankets off of his body, staring back at his own reflection from the mirror desk across from him. Wide blue eyes continued to quiver back at him, revealing a more than just shaken up. The curtains were pulled back gently, signifying that a maid had come in, filling the small bowl with water to help him wake up, and threw back the curtains to allow the prince to stare out at the sunny day, the light catching the greens of the canopy in an elegant setting.

Yet, for the moment, Legolas had no notion of staring out his window this morning. Scrambling off his bed, he hurried out his door, ignoring the fresh pair of cloths on the desk next to the water pitcher and note that had been silently place only a few hours before by his older brother.

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A/N #2: Well, I do hope this one was better than the first one that I did, and I hope that whoever is reading this does enjoy it. If you have any questions about anything that I have written in this chapter, feel free to ask. If you have any comments or suggestions about my writing (such as mistakes) feel free to state them or what have you. Reviews are appreciated, seeing as how they help me see whether people actually like my story, although I'm not going to be as high strung about them.

Thank you for reading this chapter and hope you read more in the not so distant future (and enjoy them, of course)!

- Inwe