*Aeolin's POV*

No beautiful dreams await me this time.

Only darkness and the vague feeling of terror and loss. It's as if my mind itself is too tired to conjure such images and instead stains my mouth with the emotions. I wake in the dead of night and stretch my hand out to the left uselessly. Aelrindel is not there. I lay there like a statue until I feel the slightest brush of skin against the pads of my fingers. My head snaps to the left and there I find the slightly smirking king sitting beside me.

"Thranduil?" I ask softly. He looks almost like a dream shrouded in silver and glowing slightly in the moon and torchlight. I shake my head slightly. "Is this a dream?" I question him and his lips curl upwards.

"Is this often what your dreams contain?" He asks back as I sit up a bit more, clutching what I realize is his robe to my chilled body.

"I am not sure. I so rarely have pleasant dreams. Usually only nightmares visit me." I respond and he leans forward just slightly in his seat.

"And so, you have named me a pleasant dream." He fights his smile as I loose mine.

"Maybe. If you smiled freely at me." Surprise weakens his control and for a brief moment I receive a bright smile free or smugness or malice. He shines as bright as a star. "Ah, so this must be a pleasant dream then." I tease and slide my legs over the side of the bed with a slight wince.

"What on middle earth are you up to now?" He asks and is in front of me before I can slide myself off the edge. I look up at his towering figure as his silver robes tickle my bare knees. My heart trembles.

"I wish to look at the stars." He blinks at my simple request and I take the opportunity to hop off the bed. My legs buckle beneath me, but Thranduil's hands are quick to catch me. A simple arm around my waist stops my fall and he lifts me back to my feet with a sigh. My hand crinkles the fabric covering his arm as he holds me close. Heat sparks between us as our eyes meet as warmth flushes through my body. The king smirks, but looks slightly frazzled as well. Did he feel it too?

"I will escort you." He relents quietly and takes the robe I'd left on the bed. The king wraps it around me and I carefully slip my arms into the sleeves. I chuckle slightly and his lips twitch. "What is amusing at this time, Lin?" He questions as I cling to his arm while we move towards the balcony.

"I cannot imagine Arwen's expression when I tell her the King of Mirkwood helped me with my robe."

"With my robe."

"With the robe you generously gifted me." We go back and forth a bit until he simply shakes his head in surrender. We settle down in the chairs Lord Elrond and I left this morning and are silent. Only now do I realize how close the chairs actually are now that it is only the king and I. Our sides are pressed against the other and I find it is a comfort to have him close. My hand is still nestled in the crook of his elbow and while he doesn't pull away I won't either. "Thank you for humoring me today," I tell him as I look at the stars. The moon is smaller tonight. Waning. I don't look at the king as he looks to me. "And for carrying me back here when I was too weak to stand."

"It was the least I could do after you bestowed upon me such a gift." He responds quietly and now I look at him. My smile comes easy as the moonlight frames him in glimmering silver, including the daisy crown on his head. It fades slightly at the intense look in his eyes. Once again, I'm tempted to look into what must be a sharp and maze-like mind, but resist. I wish him to trust me.

"I think I may make you that crown." I murmur softly. "If only to repay your kindness." Laughter dances through those baby blues and calls out a small smile.

"I'm glad it seems I've earned another gift for good behavior, princess. Although I'm not sure I enjoy being treated like a child." He returns and his eyes just seem to glow when I laugh. Despite the fact it's more than often at him. I should like to hear him laugh. "How is it that you can bring life to things nearly dead?" Thranduil questions and when I meet his eyes now there's something else behind them. A deeper meaning to the question.

"I am of the dirt. Dirt breathes and beats with life." I tell him and unwrap my arm from his just to hold my hand out between us. Silver shines across it as I turn it this way and that. "Plants rise from it, animals eat the plants, then other animals eat them. Then, at the end of life, we all return to it." I explain as best I can to those searching eyes. The corner of my mouth lifts as I lower my hand again and just look at him. "You, however, seem to be made of starlight." His eyebrows raise slightly at that.

"And what makes you say that?" He asks with a tint of laughter in his voice.

"At this very moment, you glow silver. Like a star." I start and his expression turns more wondering than amused. Vulnerability bites at my stomach, but I continue anyway. "And some think starlight to be a cold, unfeeling light." His eyes harden ever so slightly. "But I prefer to think of them as torches suspended so far that we cannot feel their heat. If we were to get close to one, then I think it would burn us with its brilliant heat."

"You seem very certain of something that cannot be proven. What if it truly is only a cold light?" He asks and I do my best to stand while using the balcony rails to hold my weight. Thranduil's hand hovers inches from my waist as I do so, but quickly drops when I smirk.

"If the chances of me being right about you are the same as my chances to be right about the stars, I believe it's nearly certain." I tease, but my smile fades when he stands as well and I find I'm trapped between him and the balcony.

"Why are you always so certain of me? Of my motives? Of my heart?" He whispers and his hands slowly slide onto the balcony on either side of me. At the mention of his heart, my own heart turns loud in my ears. He feels this strange feeling too then. He must, right? I wonder as I freeze under his penetrating gaze.

"Am I wrong?" I ask back with my voice just below a whisper. His head shakes and falls closer to mine. So close our noses brush. My hands lift and claim the sides of his robe, tugging just enough to keep him close to me. I have never felt so warm, so awake. His hands leave the rail and are now smoothing up my waist, burning through the fabric and onto my skin.

"Irritatingly, you never seem to be wrong."

"My wounds..." I trail off, my hands sliding back down his chest as he releases me slightly. What are we doing?

"Of course, you should be resting." Without looking at me, he takes me back to the bed and lifts me onto it with two hands on my waist. "I'll leave you." He walks to the door without looking back.

"Thranduil," I call and he stops with his hand hovering above the handle. "Why were you here?" I ask softly but know he can hear me.

He doesn't look back to answer. "I did not wish you to be alone." Then he leaves and I am left alone after all. Just more confused than ever.

*Thranduil's POV*

By the Valar, what was I thinking? My lips press together, still warm from Aeolin's breath. My hands are still warm from her as well. What a fool I am.

I wrench open the door to my rooms within my realm and breathe a sigh of relief at being alone. Although being alone has its own difficulties. Here there is nothing to distract me from the memory of her pressed tight against me, her hands tugging me closer, her eyes glowing soft and luminous in the moonlight with something more within them. Three glasses of wine disappear down my gullet before I've even undressed and two more thereafter. Still, my hands are steady when I lift the soft crown of flowers from my head and place them around the first small flower she gave me. All still vibrant with life. As is the elleth herself.

I breathe a huff of irritation at my inability to rid her from my mind. I have nearly committed a crime against the Valar tonight. Kissing a married elleth as a married ellon is unforgivable, but there is still something worse.

I still wanted to.