Dreams? There were no such things. All Thranduil had were nightmares. Every night after Dawn's body went missing, the entire week, he had nightmares. He remembered the first one all too well. He was walking through a misty meadow. There was a stream, and by the stream, was a woman. Every time he got close to her, she would turn and look at him. It was Dawn. He would try and touch her, but his hand would go through her. Every time, she was just out of reach.

"Stop," she said. Her voice had a slight echo to it.

"Where are you?" Thranduil asked.

"Gone."

"Gone where?"

"Gone away."

"Why?" Her eyes would then look directly into his, as if she were looking straight through him.

"You know why." She would then turn and leave and he would be left alone.

For a week he endured these nightmares. For a week his guards looked high and low for Dawn. The closest they had come to finding her, was her empty coffin. After that long week of nothing, something happened.

"My lord!" Thranduil looked up at his guard from his place on his throne. "We have found something." Thranduil arched an eye brow at him in annoyance.

"You found something?" The guard nodded and held up a crown. He looked closer and saw that it was Dawn's crown, but he still didn't seem to care. "Where did you get it?"

"A merchant had it. He said that a woman sold it to him. He thought it was stolen and returned it to us."

"Where is this woman?"

"He said he last saw here heading for Bree."

"What is today?"

"March 7th."

"I want to go to Bree, catch this thief, and return home by the 18th."

"But my lord-"

"I do not care how harsh the journey will be. I want it done. You have half an hour. I suggest you hurry."

Harsh was an understatement. For five days straight, they rode to Bree without any stops. Once they arrived on the fifth day, the horses nearly gave out. They rode about, asking the people about a woman with a lot of money. They were pointed to an abandoned cottage on the edge of town. It was a small cottage, with a light in the window and smoke coming from the chimney. Thranduil's men surrounded the cottage quietly. When he gave the signal, the men all charged into the house, but it was empty. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a hooded figure running through the town. He dismounted and ran after her. He chased her through mud, rain, and people. He ran as fast as he could, but she would not be so easily beaten. She picked up speed and ran out of his reach. He too, would not be so easily beaten. He ran through an ally and around a corner before waiting. When she had slowed to a stop after thinking she lost him, he turned the corner and grabbed her. She kicked and hit, and he simply just pushed her onto the ground and pinned her. When his men arrived, a guard traded places with him.

"My king, are you hurt?" He shook his head before glaring at the woman.

"Who are you and why have you stolen from me?" The woman remained silent. He noticed how dirty she was and what she was wearing. "Well you are no lady. Ladies do not where pants and they are much cleaner, politer, and have the sense to speak when spoken to." Still nothing. "Who are you?!" He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Those eyes? Those light, crystal blue eyes… "Give her a horse. We are leaving."

Six days later, on March 18th, he returned home for Cílion's birthday. A party was held, and the whole kingdom was invited. There was food, laughter, music, and dancing. However, for the royal family, especially the birthday boy, it just wasn't the same. Then, when everyone was about to leave, Thranduil had an announcement.

"As you all well know, the late queen was stolen from her grave. We found her coffin, we found her crown, and we have finally found her thief." The room was filled with questions, but one look from their king, and the people remained silent. "And now, I have a surprise for my son." The doors to the grand hall were opened and the thief walked in. She wore a long, deep blue dress and the crown that she had stolen. The room fell silent and all were speechless.

"Impossible…"

"How could this be?"

"How did she steal such things and live?" None could believe their eyes. The thief that their king had spent two weeks looking for was Dawn.

"The grace of the valar has blessed us," Thranduil continued. "Our queen has returned to us." He looked at his son. "Do you like your present?" The boy nodded before running over and hugging his mother. She returned it quickly before being escorted out by a company of guards. "What a wonderful day it is."

Dawn sat at her vanity and stared at her reflection. Her eyes were red from crying, her nose was puffy, and her face stained with tears. She had almost done it. She was almost free. Why was that so hard? Why was freedom always denied to her? When Thranduil came in, she slowly turned to look at him. He didn't seem to care at all.

"Is there a reason you are crying." She sniffed and glared at him.

"I was almost free," she said in a hoarse voice. "I was almost rid of you."

"Such a pity."

"If you cared about me at all you would-"

"Well I am glad I do not care about you."

"Yes you do."

"No, I do not care about you. From the time they laid you in your grave till the time I thought your body had been stolen, I did not care." Dawn FELT her heart break and her eyes began to water.

"Then why did you come after me?"

"It was very kingly like."

"So that day when you showed be your scar, it means nothing to you now?" He shook his head and she looked down to hide her tears. "I want to leave."

"No."

"I want to leave now! Right n-" The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed throughout the room as his hand made contact with her cheek.

"I SAID NO AND I MEANT IT!" Dawn fell out of her chair and crawled back away from him. Never had she seen him this angry before. It looked unnatural. "Now you have two choices: you can stay here and live happily, or you can stay here and live miserable. Choose wisely." He wiped off his hand before leaving. When she heard the door lock, she began to cry uncontrollably. Now she really wanted to leave. She came back in hope that he would want her. When she had woken up in a coffin, she knew it was time to escape. Now, she wished she had died, just to save herself from the pain. He didn't love her. She had lived for nothing.