As the night fell, the King retired from the banquet halls to his chambers. It had been a pleasant evening, with dances and laughter, as the elves often spent when enjoying a feast in the grand hall of the palace. For Thranduil, dinner had never been so entertaining, but now that his son was back at his side, he felt that he was once again in high spirits.

Except for the palace guards, all his subjects attended dinner. And of course there was another person missing out on all the festivities. His mind drifted off to her, without even noticing. That small, frail human with her dark and teary eyes, crumbled on the floor at his feet, that made him feel guilt over shattering her box. He decided he would have it fixed for her, before she continued her journey west.

His eyes then fell upon the numerous papers spread out on top of his oak desk. The reports had arrived from the far corners of his kingdom and he should get the chance to review them by morning. Finding sleep elusive, he started working on them under the light of the moon that was illuminating the whole room in lucid splendor. A fading fire was burning in the hearth, but he barely noticed that it was about to go out. He was immersed in his work. There were reports of increasing orc attacks coming from the north and he decided that swift action should be taken against that. He would approach the council in the morning meeting about his concerns in this regard.

It was silent. Winter was drawing near, but not even the cold wind was present tonight. He sat up from his desk and took off his silver crown, then rested his gaze on it for a little while, admiring the elven carvings and jewels decorating it. He was the last Elvenking of Middle Earth, one of the greatest warriors that ever lived and his sense of duty towards this land was increasing with every elf leaving for Valinor. He was no longer the protector of the Greenwood, he was there to ensure the safety of all, to help defeat the dark legions once and for all, before his time will come to sail across the sea with the remaining elves.

At times, he envied the mortals and the way they spent their brief time in the sun. Sonja was mortal. His thoughts drifted back to her. There was something about her that intrigued him so and that made him feel connected to her in an inexplicable way. No matter what he did, his mind kept going back to her and there was no way he could stop this from happening. He had to find out more.

There was ancient elven magic powerful enough to allow him to enter her dreams and gaze into her mind. No matter the implications, he decided to try it tonight and be free from the thoughts that haunt him once and for all.

Looking at the moon above, he closed his cold blue eyes and started to chant in the ancient language of the Valar. He felt a shudder overtake him as he drifted further and further away into a deep meditation. The air around him became warmer and a sweet melody echoed in the back of his mind.

He opened his eyes and found himself in the middle of a human village. It was a hot summer night and it seemed like the villagers were having a feast. They were holding hands and dancing around a big fire, under starlight. One among them caught his eye. He was tall, well built, dark haired. His smile was kind as he lifted his gaze from the fire and winked at the King. Thranduil realized he was watching everything through Sonja's eyes. The tall, kind man was Brann, no doubt a memory from before he was so brutally taken from her. The elf felt the deep love and connection that Sonja had in her heart towards the dancing human, as she watched him from the side of the gathering, resting near a tree. For the King, it was something that he hadn't felt in ages and he allowed himself to rejoice in the warmth of the illusion.

The feeling was short lived as Thranduil felt his grip over the dream starting to slip away from him.

-'Get out of my head!' Sonja yelled at him unexpectedly.

Her voice echoed endlessly and made his head hurt badly. It had never happened before, someone to be aware of his presence inside the dream and to try to resist him. The urge of finding out more grew inside of him, the urge to hang on to that feeling he had for mere moments. He desperately tried to maintain his grasp over the dream world but he awoke cold and sweaty and all alone under the moon in his own room.

Thranduil was angered for allowing himself to feel once more only to be voided of the warmth so soon.

Strong knocks against the massive doors distracted him from his train of thought and he welcomed the servant in his chambers. He was expecting to have breakfast in his private room this morning, but the servant arrived empty handed.

-'My King, the healers sent word. It is the human girl, she is... unwell', he informed in a concerned voice.

-'Take me to her!' the King commanded before his mind could even grasp the situation.

His best healers were tending to Sonja in her room and they did not hide their surprise when the King himself came to check on her condition. She was lying in bed, motionless as if she was sleeping. A cold cloth was placed upon her forehead and her cheeks looked crimson red.

-'What is wrong with her?' the King addressed the gathering.

-'We do not know, my King. She has a high fever. But there is no infection, disease or other apparent reason. We tried to treat her with everything available, but not even Athelas has any effect on her. I am afraid she is only getting worse.'

A shadow of concern started to form on the King's face but he managed to mask it before anyone could notice. He looked upon her face and events of the previous night began to flow into his mind again.

-'Leave us', he commanded and the healers obeyed his orders, though reluctant and a bit surprised at the request.

He sat down on the side of the bed, trying to remember if he ever in his long years had witnessed any similar affliction. His eyes were fixed on the shattered box, placed on the nightstand near her head. He shook his head when he realized he had been staring absently at it for almost half an hour. The elf directed his gaze towards the human once more, wishing there was something he could do for her to ease the pain. He reached out for her small hand and traced the outline of an old scar with his fingers. Her skin felt surprisingly smooth for a human, except for the fine scar left by the tip of a blade. Those small, smooth hands had once been fighting for survival in horrid battles, he thought to himself.

He started chanting the ancient words again only this time he felt like freezing to his very bone. It was a gray twilight on a high mountain peak. Everything looked distorted and strange, in total contrast to the beautiful memory he had witnessed the night before. There was strange lightning in the sky but no rain. He could feel the wind flowing in his long hair, grazing his cheek in hunger. For a moment he thought he was alone in this land touched by the shadow. But then he saw her, cradled at the foot of a cliff, helpless and naked, chained in irons to the cold stone. Her eyes were closed and she was barely breathing as blood was coming out of her wounds. Thranduil noticed the lash left by the blade on her hand but his eyes were drawn to the bigger wound in her abdomen, still oozing with red. She was shivering uncontrollably as she kept calling for someone, but he did not understand her words.

The King approached her and placed his outer robe over her shoulders, to try and keep the wind from hurting her. She stopped shivering and only then he realized that she was calling out for a baby. It took all his might to pull the iron shackles from the stone wall. Then he lifted her from the ground and cradled her in his arms, walking away from the mountain top. He felt her moving close to his chest and when he looked upon her, she opened her eyes. He got lost inside their shiny darkness, like the endless sky of a starry night and, breathless, he woke up on the side of her bed.

-'You're here...' she whispered as she batted her long and heavy lashes, revealing her amazingly black eyes.

Thranduil was startled by the sound of her voice and released her hand from his. He stood up abruptly, his face voided of any sentiment once more as he glanced at her. She looked so tired... But she was awake and the crimson in her cheeks was gone.

-'I think you will be alright', he told her. 'I will send for the healers. You should rest.'

She rewarded him with a faint smile before drifting back to sleep.