Glaring sunlight. This was what had awoken Himelon from his sleep in the nest of sheets and pillows he'd made. The sun was just at the proper angle to strike him right in the eyes. With a groan and a soft curse the raven haired male glanced over toward where the window had been. It was closed despite having been open when he'd gone to sleep. It took a moment for this to process and before the significance had truly dawned on Himelon he'd buried his face in the sheets once more. Inhaling deeply the raven haired male began to drift off to sleep again. It wasn't until the ever so soft footfall of someone passing near the bed had reached his ears that Himelon had put two and two together. The previously open window was now closed. Someone else was in the room. Himelon's pale blue eyes shot open and in a single movement he'd launched from the bed to the other side of the room. His eyes came to settle on a young male elfling who was barely managing to support himself on the bed frame. He blinked dumbly in shock at the raven haired male who was regarding him with as much confusion as the elfling felt from the sudden movement.
"Who are you?" Himelon questioned in as authoritarian a way as he could manage, "What were you doing?" The elfling steadied his stance and cleared his throat slightly before flashing an all too friendly smile for the situation.
"I was bringing you some clean clothes," the elfling spoke gently as he came closer revealing the bundle of silver in his arms, "Sir." The last word had been added as an afterthought. As if the elfling had caught himself speaking too casually.
"Himelon." the raven haired elf took the bundle from the elfling, "My name. And thank you." Himelon relaxed himself and offered a soft smile. The elfling smiled back and bowed softly before quickly darting out of the room. Himelon surmised that the elfling must have been some sort of servant and the "Sir." thing must be some sort of customary respect offered to all guest. He was guessing he was a guest now anyway. Prisoners didn't exactly get room service or a nice bed after all. Himelon laid out the silver fabric and began staring it down as if it would try and kill him.
"Silver," Himelon sighed, "it's been a while." Instead of dressing in complete silver as it was seemingly expected he do Himelon retrieved his black shirt from where it had been folded on the birch dresser. He slipped the silver tunic on over his black pants and loosely attached the black fabric over top of that. The silver was peeking out from his collar and the black acted more like an over-shirt now. The raven haired male regarded his reflection for a moment before weaving in a braid that tucked behind either one of his ears and then a third down the back of his head. Once he was satisfied with his hair he moved to the beautifully carved oak door. It was adorned with a scene of an elf maid picking flowers by a stream. The raven haired male pushed the door open with full intent on collecting his bow, arrows, and blade, from the armory where he knew they'd have been taken, and leaving promptly there after. Those plans had come to a screeching halt when one of the guards by the door silently grabbed his arm and shoved him back in the room. The other of the two had obviously been expecting a fight or argument seeing as how he'd turned and blocked the door entirely.
"You are to remain here until King Thranduil summons you." the guard blocking the door stated with just the ever so slight hint of annoyance in his tone. Although Himelon could not see his eyes he knew he was being glared at.
"What happened to King Oropher?" Himelon asked coolly taking a step forward so that the door could not be closed without crushing him, "Has he passed?" The raven haired male knew the answer deep down. He just hoped otherwise. The nod from the guard confirmed what he had not been hoping for. Despite being a tad ill-tempered Oropher had been generally fair and easier than his predecessor to reason with. Himelon knew nothing of this Thranduil and wasn't even sure if he was Oropher's descendent. As far as he knew Oropher hadn't had any children.
"Thranduil is his relative?" As soon as the question had left Himelon's lips the other guard tried to stifle a laugh. That guard was likely younger than the other whose glare only intensified.
"His son." The elder guard informed Himelon sharply before closing the door rather forcefully. To avoid being crushed Himelon had abruptly retreated back into the room. With a sigh he took a perch on the windowsill with his feet dangling in the breeze and awaited what would probably be a very uncomfortable meeting. The first meeting of a ruler rarely went well and if son was like father it would likely end in a misunderstanding.
Rising with the sun Thranduil wandered through his halls and out into the main courtyard of his palace. For a time he simply sat and watched the day dwelling forest creatures come to greet the morning. The sunrise stained the deep blue sky over Greenwood various shades of purple and orange while the scent was dark flowers such as jasmine and orchid gave way to lighter scents such as gardenia and roses. The brilliantly painted sky contrasted beautifully with the wide variety of green hues and tints of the vast forest that was his kingdom. When other elves started coming out of the woodwork, as it were, to go about their daily business Thranduil made his way back inside. He came passing by his "guest's" room just in time to see the door being slammed in his face. Had circumstances been different Thranduil likely would have reprimanded the guard for being rude to a guest but the raven haired stranger was technically not a guest. He was a prisoner with a lavish cell. The starlight haired elf king chuckled to himself at the idea before moving further into his halls. After the main duties of the day had been taken care of Thranduil took his usual perch for business on his throne.
"It is due time we deal with our raven haired trespasser." Thranduil stated suppressing the cringe that threatened to work across his face. It had only been a few minutes before the raven haired male was brought before him but it felt like an eternity. The starlight haired king had been dreading this encounter for quite some time now. He had no idea of how it would play out and had even less control over what his emotions may do. If it wasn't gnawing familiarity and guilt that made him feel violently ill, it was burning desire and rage that colored his thoughts, and regardless there was always the vice-like grip of terror whispering in the depths of his mind. Of course no one could ever know any of that. He was king and he was strong and unbreakable. Questioning this trespasser should be no different than any other.
When the guards who'd been sent to fetch the raven haired elf male appeared with their captive in tow all of the king's inner worries became just that. Inner. On the outside he was a calm and cool as the mountain stream and as immovable and unapproachable as the cliff-faces over which said stream would flow. With piercing icy blue eyes and impassive face he regarded the prisoner. He's braided some of his black hair and had modified the clothing he's had brought to him to fit his own tastes. Ever the fan of black fabric. The raven haired male stood out against the throne room as a yellow autumn leaf stood out against green grass. The raven haired male carried himself as if he was of high stature and yet his pale blue eyes spoke of confusion and fear. Despite the guards' attempts to get the raven haired elf to kneel he did not. Thranduil could see that there would likely be broken bones before he kneeled and with a fluid motion of his hand dismissed the guards. All was silent for a time and Thranduil watched as his guest walked over to the edge and seemed to be interested in staring down into the depths below.
"Who are you?" the King's voice was what broken the silence, "And why were you trespassing in my realm?" He rose silently and glided over to the other's location so he could see his face. The raven haired male barely suppressed the surprised flinch when the deafening silence had been broken and rather boldly made eye contact as the king grew ever nearer.
"Himelon." the raven haired male replied smoothly, "As for my purpose in Greenwood, I was simply passing through." Himelon's voice had been as cold and smooth as a sphere made of ice while his pale face was as constant as cryptic as the full moon on a cloudy October night.
"If this is true then why attack my people?" By now Thranduil was circling the other male much like a predator circles its prey. At least that's how it often came off. In all reality it was a nervous habit. Something he did while thinking much like the pacing that some other individuals had taken to. Of course if his nervous tick served to intimidate his enemies then there was no reason to reveal the true purpose of the movement. Neither with words or stance or attempt to control his compulsion.
"I have not had positive experiences with Silvan elves in the past," Himelon replied keeping his eyes ever on the starlight haired king, "I was merely trying to frighten them. If I'd wanted them gone you'd have a forest full of dead bodies." Himelon almost immediately realized how much like a threat that must have sounded and the anger that flashed in the eyes of the otherwise calm king only confirmed the thought. The anger however was suppressed in an instant as then next question rolled from Thranduil's tongue.
"You do realize I have been exceedingly kind toward you." the starlight haired king began as he started back up the steps to his throne, "Why should I not have you thrown back in the dungeons?" The question had come more from the elf King's curiosity than anything else but the glaringly obvious fear that flashed in Himelon's eyes tugged at that pit in Thranduil's stomach. That pit he wished he didn't have when it came to this strange elf male.
"What makes you think you could catch me," Himelon began with silent conviction as his gaze traveled to the abyss near where they were standing, "before I jump over the edge of this platform?" As his gaze returned to the Elven King's it was resolute. If Thranduil called the guards or tried to grab him, he'd jump.
"You would not do such a thing." Thranduil ventured as fear and anger at the soft threat crept into his expression. His assertion was nearly shattered when he saw that his statement was entirely wrong. He knew that look. It was the look of an elf that was all too ready to die to evade imprisonment.
"Shall we test that?" Himelon's fluid words stung. They stung Thranduil's heart and mind like a bee. He would not test it for he already knew how it would play out and despite having little to no knowledge of Himelon in this life the elf king felt all too deeply that he could not bear to loose him. It was an annoying sensation to say the least.
"Let me leave Greenwood," Himelon began suddenly momentarily startling Thranduil, "and I would be more than happy to weave you gems of starlight and moonlight in return." Bribery. It had always worked in the past when he was in a bind with his woodland kin. The kings of Greenwood had an affinity for starlight and the gems made from it. The skill was nearly unknown to the generation of Silvan elves currently living in the forest as well. More than once the simple mention of starlight gems had freed him. It was not to be this time however.
"I can make such gems," Thranduil stated coolly perfectly hiding his deep desire to take the offer, "your offer means nothing to me." He took his seat and stared intently at the other male. That pit that would not even let him entertain the idea of loosing the raven haired elf male was back in full force. He was curious about him. Most all elves detested the idea of wearing black. It was the color of shadow and death which were not things most elves enjoyed and those that did laid now dead on the battlefields of Mordor. Not only that but the claim to be able to make those gems. It was an ancient skill that practically no one knew and yet this random elf previously unknown to his had spoken with such confidence that he could not have been lying. Then there were the king's roiling emotions. They made him want to know everything about Himelon. Where he was from and where he was going. Why he was so eager to leave and why he always haunted his dreams and nightmares. Thranduil wanted to know who and what this raven haired male was in as much detail as possible.
"You will remain here," the King spoke after a bit of a pause during which Himelon had wandered ever closer to the platform's edge, "and in return you will be given the privilege to roam and explore under the vigilance of a guard of my choosing." Himelon glared and flinched visibly at the idea of being kept against his will even longer in Greenwood, but some roaming privilege was better than full on imprisonment.
"I thank you for you gracious hospitality," Himelon uttered with the widest smile and most overstated bow he'd ever composed, "great Elven King Thranduil." Himelon knew he was being theatrical. It was a political tactic. There were very few ways one could respectfully show their displeasure while not insulting their host. This. This skirted the boundary significantly but seeing as how a small glare an a dismissal were all he got, Himelon figured he'd take it. He was promptly escorted out by guard and left to his own devices and Thranduil was left to be annoyed with himself still trying to sort out how exactly he was going to go about learning anything about his new mysterious guest.