A/N: I absolutely love this song from HTTYD. Anyway, after Hope Blossoms we begin the twisty timelines for a minute.

So time is getting a bit twisty. But don't worry it's not for long. To be clear, just before Hope there are TWO staggered timelines. But because the Valar tend to know things before they happen (see The Silmarillion) they are allowing Legolas and Thranduil to see/feel the pain of loss for a reason before it actually happens. So Thranduil is actually right, seeing Caelann is a gift.

Like, Subscribe, Favorite, Follow and Review, (and consider following or supporting on P-atreon and Ko-fi. Cause you know adulting.)

Much Love

JR

Dancing and Dreaming

"You have to go out tonight." Her very blonde companion insisted, searching through her small closet for something that she could wear to the ceilidh that they had been invited to. Well, technically she had been invited with the idea that she should bring along her pretty blond American friend.

Smiling and shaking her head in amusement, she reached in and pulled out the three dresses that she owned. "I really donnae actually." She teased, knowing that she would because the blond was new, and after she was home, the American would still be here. She would have the house in her name, a trip to the secret solicitor last week had taken care of that as well as all the other assets that Caelann currently possessed, but she needed ties. Friends. So as much as Caelann would prefer not to spend the night fending off slightly drunk men and wearing herself out when there would be more training in the morning, she would go.

That didn't mean she wouldn't tease her non-yank friend. "Dougal only asked me ta invite ye." Kneeling beside her bed she fished out the flats that could go with any of the dresses that had somehow been shoved all the way under the frame and against the wall that her bedstead was against. "Oh come here ye blasted…"

"You have to go!" Sherilyn insisted. A tiny stamp of her foot emphasized the words. Tiny as the woman may have been in comparison to Caelann's more rounded appearance, she packed quite a lot of power into it. She reminded the Scot of a forest nymph. "I can't go without you. I won't know anyone!"

Snorting, Caelann pulled back with the pair of shoes in hand. "I ken Dougal from the service. He's a fine man. He willna mind if ye show up alone, so long as ye save him a dance."

"I'll mind!" Lyn argued, her almost electric blue eyes flashed in annoyance.

She was almost as fun to rile as Thranduil was, Caelann had found since the non-yank moved in some time ago. Like the sister that she had never had but always needed. They teased and bickered and loved as chosen sisters should. It may look odd to those outside who assumed that their relationship was more romantic in nature, not if you paid me they normally snorted when someone asked, but it worked for them.

"You can't sit at home alone all the time." The American insisted, her voice taking on the thick syrupy sweetness that it tended to when she was expressing concern. When she was being a pain, her voice reminded Caelann more of whiskey or bourbon. "He wouldn't want that." She almost whispered, perching on the bed.

Smiling at the thought of her husband, Caelann slid onto the quilt next to her with a soft groan. "He would either drag me there," she agreed, "or make sure I didn't leave the bed." Chuckling, she nudged her friend with her shoulder before pointing to the three dresses now hanging from the door. "Which one?"

"You're going?" Sherilyn almost squeaked in surprise.

Smiling, she nodded. "Such an easy mark," Caelann admitted. "Now choose one or ye'll get what ye get even if that's the trousers and jumper I'm in."

Sherilyn squealed and threw her arms around her friend's shoulders before choosing the forest green one that was as soft as a whisper.

What felt like hours later to her, both women arrived at the local, to be greeted by a crowd that near burst the door off the pub. It was dance night and it seemed as if the entire town had turned out for it. Paying at the door, the dance was supporting the local animal welfare groups, they pushed their way inside and to the bar as Caelann insisted the only way she was dancing was if she had a drink first.

Soon spotted by Dougal, Sherilyn was whisked off leaving Caelann to finish her Guinness and make small talk with her neighbors.

"Caelann!" A cheerful voice called from somewhere in the pressing crowd.

Turning, she saw an upraised hand and following it back to its owner, she grinned. "Ian!" She waved the giant of a man over and threw herself at him, hugging him around the middle. "When did ye get back?"

"About a week ago." Returning her hug, he hugged her back tightly only releasing when she gasped in pain. "Och I'm sorry." He stepped back as far as the crowd would let him. "I heard ye were injured."

"IED." She said. "I was too close. Got burned and took shrapnel." Shrugging, she shoved his shoulder. "I'll no break from a hug."

Still, his eyes filled with such pity. Quickly looking her over, he caught the web of scars that now covered one arm and up her neck. Then he realized that the lines on her face weren't just from smiling. A new expression she had never thought to see from him filled his eyes and she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach.

She had loved him once. A long time ago. About a month before she had been injured, they had made a marriage pact. If they were still single by the time they reached the age of thirty-five they would marry. For a while, Ian had dogged her footsteps and scared off every male that looked at her. She had felt tender feelings for him. She had been able to talk to him about everything. Caught a bad case of feelings, as her mother would have said.

But then he had been transferred to another unit, and before she even had time to blink from that, she had been injured and found herself in a foreign world.

But Ian, who had seen some of the worst injuries that came through their unit as a fellow doctor with a smile, now looked at her as if he would have put her back together a different way. Like she was a patient. Or worse yet, an experiment for a new treatment.

"What treatments have you looked into for the scarring?" He asked. The narrowing of his eyes as he reached for her hand confirmed it.

She dreaded to think about what he would say if and when he saw her limp from all the dancing she was sure to do. He would once again follow her like a dog after a bone, but not in a good way. She knew him much too well. He would hound her about treatments and surgeries until she would be tempted to punch him. But she had no intention of letting him ruin her night.

She was a damn queen. Whether she was in this world or home, she had been taught by the best how to not let someone get under her skin. And it was only her teacher's opinion that mattered a damn anyway.

"None I'll discuss with ye here." She said, keeping her smile glued to her face. "Dance with me?"

She danced for hours, passing from one partner to the next but never again did she allow Ian a thought. The feelings she had at the mixture of disgust and interest that she had seen in his gaze for the entirety of the time she danced with him would keep until she got home and could cry in peace if that was what she needed.

As soon as she had begun to feel a weakness building in her knee, Sherilyn had appeared as if by magic and whisked her back out to the car. "That was wonderful!"

"I'm glad ye enjoyed it," Caelann whispered. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against the window and listened as Lyn recounted every partner she had and everything that had been said. Almost by unspoken agreement, both knew they would discuss what happened after they separated when they got home, but for now, Caelann was silent.

"So?" Sherilyn asked once they were both showered, changed, and curled up in front of the fire that gently crackled in the glass-fronted wood stove. "What happened with Tall-Blond-And-Gorgeous?" Wincing at the icy look she received in reply, she pulled the thick quilt from the back of the sofa that they shared over her and dramatically shivered. "That bad?"

"He looked at me like I was something he had ta fix." Caelann sighed. Holding up her scarred hand in the firelight where the twisting lines of scars shimmered as the orange glow danced over them. "An experiment. Something ta try new treatments on and see if they work." She dropped her hand. "I donnae even think about them anymore unless they are hurting."

"What a jerk."

Pushing to her feet, Caelann plucked the kettle from the back of the stove and went to the kitchen to fill it. When she came back, a tray in her hands filled with mugs, biscuits, and other various tea things, she shrugged. "I met him in the service." She explained. "But he wasna a lowly field surgeon like me. More a 'fine tuner,' his words mind, cosmetic and plastic surgery. He was quickly transferred back ta the base hospitals. I was at the field medic stations. Not front line, but…"

"Saw more action in a day than he saw in a month." Sherilyn guessed.

"Aye." Setting the kettle back on the stove to heat, Caelann took a deep breath and filled the American in on everything else that happened. "Then I went to middle earth and had a life with Thranduil, came back and that's it."

"I repeat, what a jerk." The blond shrugged, looking into her heavy mug suspiciously. Finding it to be hot chocolate, not the tea she had almost feared, she relaxed back into the cushions. "You were a different person back then, I get it. But he was a jerk then, and he still is." She took a sip and groaned happily before propping her feet on the corner of the coffee table where they would get warmed by the fire.

Sipping her tea slowly, Caelann had taken to kneading the knots of tension out of her own feet. She was very glad she had worn the flats. "He was always a very proud man." She admitted.

"Speaking of proud men." Lyn started, studying her from hooded eyes. "What about your husband? How will he react to the scars? You said that the condition that you're in carries over right? Have you thought about it?"

"I have."

"And?"

Thinking for a minute, Caelann stretched her feet out into the thick rug that covered the floor, digging her toes into the pile. "I ken he will no be disgusted by them."

"How?"

A tiny smile curled the corner of the Scottish woman's mouth. "Because I was with him when he was burned by the firedrake." Holding up her scarred hand again, she twisted it from side to side, showing every discoloration and divot where bits of flesh had to be removed, the silvered ropes of scars, and the redness that remained. "This is hardly anything in comparison. Scars donnae damage the person within if we donnae let them."

"You trust him," Sherilyn said, nodding.

"With everything." Caelann agreed, sipping at her steaming drink once more.

"What if he changed?" Her companion asked. "He was a bit of an ass in the movies."

The smile that teased across her face grew as she thought back to those horrid movies and the way they portrayed her husband. He had almost been a monster in them. "He probably has changed." She admitted. "It's been quite a long time since I was with him. I'd be surprised if he has no."

"So?" The blond prompted.

"Then I'll just have ta find him again." Her scared hand coiled as if she was holding someone's fingers and she pressed it to her sternum. "Cause I hae a few more dreams with that elon that not even savage seas could stop me from going after."

Somewhere far away, a beautiful woman danced. Her arms upraised to the light of the sun, she smiled. "Through all life's sorrows and delights, I'll keep your laugh inside me." She sang in a whisper to the silent music that only she could hear as her husband looked on, grinning.

Coming to a stop before him, Nessa reached for his hand and pulled him into the dance with her. When it ended and he kissed her heartily, she broke away smiling. "It is almost time is it not my love?"

"Aye." He growled. "The end is near at hand. But I am unsure it will end happily."

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"We will have to wait and see."