A Meeting of Minds (4/?)
Glorfindel smiled to himself as he zig-zagged a way down the corridor towards his own rooms. He hadn't felt so good since Legolas' last visit, two...no, that wasn't it...three decades ago. He hummed to himself, wanting very much to burst into song, but he knew it would disturb Elves that were trying to sleep, and he wasn't so inebriated that he would dismiss good manners. He walked past his own door twice before stopping and opening it. He smiled as he thew himself onto his soft bed and let his eyes unfocus slowly as he decended into dreams.
Legolas smiled softly as a breeze played over his face and rustled the leaves of the trees that he was listening to. They were talking to him, telling him of his own kingdom, news from their brethren further north. They were telling him of events long past, of the time when elves taught all things to speak, of great wars and great loves. They told him that the future was wide and long. They told him that songs would be turned to legends for his glory. They told him of their love for him and he hummed sofly his love of them in return.
The Wine sang in his veins, leaveing him pleasantly light-headed and only slightly drowsy. The more whippy parts of the branch were curling up and gathering around him, to protect him from falling and the rain that was assuredly going to fall any moment. They curled up around him and over him like a blanket and whisperd to him to sing for them.
He turned his head lazily and caught sight of his lover lying on his bed and the smile grew. He opened his lips and a soft lilting melody fell from his lips. The Trees sighed in appriciation of the beautiful song. And Legolas felt free suddenly and with that freedom his song grew and a happiness swelled inside him.
Lord Elrond was grinning at the sight he was gazeing at. Trees that had once been of Greenwood cradleing their singing warrior Prince. ::This Prince of Mirkwood,:: Elrond thought to himself, ::this Archer, could one day hold all of Elven Kind under his sway, should he be given the chance.:: And in his heart of hearts, Elrond, Lore Master, secretly longed for the day when that would be true and he could lay down his burdens. ::But,:: his thoughts continued ::until then, let us see how the Masters seat suits our Proud Warriors in their teaching of Aragorn.::
Aragorn son of Arathorn, despite his protests, slept soundly in his bed, nightmares that had been building disperseing as a song reached his sleeping ears. The song banished dark thoughts from his mind and filled his dreams with all the things a childs dreams should be filled with.
Glorfindel smiled to himself as he zig-zagged a way down the corridor towards his own rooms. He hadn't felt so good since Legolas' last visit, two...no, that wasn't it...three decades ago. He hummed to himself, wanting very much to burst into song, but he knew it would disturb Elves that were trying to sleep, and he wasn't so inebriated that he would dismiss good manners. He walked past his own door twice before stopping and opening it. He smiled as he thew himself onto his soft bed and let his eyes unfocus slowly as he decended into dreams.
Legolas smiled softly as a breeze played over his face and rustled the leaves of the trees that he was listening to. They were talking to him, telling him of his own kingdom, news from their brethren further north. They were telling him of events long past, of the time when elves taught all things to speak, of great wars and great loves. They told him that the future was wide and long. They told him that songs would be turned to legends for his glory. They told him of their love for him and he hummed sofly his love of them in return.
The Wine sang in his veins, leaveing him pleasantly light-headed and only slightly drowsy. The more whippy parts of the branch were curling up and gathering around him, to protect him from falling and the rain that was assuredly going to fall any moment. They curled up around him and over him like a blanket and whisperd to him to sing for them.
He turned his head lazily and caught sight of his lover lying on his bed and the smile grew. He opened his lips and a soft lilting melody fell from his lips. The Trees sighed in appriciation of the beautiful song. And Legolas felt free suddenly and with that freedom his song grew and a happiness swelled inside him.
Lord Elrond was grinning at the sight he was gazeing at. Trees that had once been of Greenwood cradleing their singing warrior Prince. ::This Prince of Mirkwood,:: Elrond thought to himself, ::this Archer, could one day hold all of Elven Kind under his sway, should he be given the chance.:: And in his heart of hearts, Elrond, Lore Master, secretly longed for the day when that would be true and he could lay down his burdens. ::But,:: his thoughts continued ::until then, let us see how the Masters seat suits our Proud Warriors in their teaching of Aragorn.::
Aragorn son of Arathorn, despite his protests, slept soundly in his bed, nightmares that had been building disperseing as a song reached his sleeping ears. The song banished dark thoughts from his mind and filled his dreams with all the things a childs dreams should be filled with.