I woke with a jolt to find someone looking at me again. Seriously, what was up with that.

"What do you want?" I said blearily, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

"Well, school started an hour ago!" my mother enunciated in a shrill voice.

"WHAT?" I yelped. "Why didn't you wake me up?!"

"I tried!" she protested. "But you wouldn't wake up!"

"That's bull," I snarled. Tired and late for school is not a real stellar combination for me.

My mother retreated with a hurt look.

"If you want to be stubborn about it, that's your problem," she said coldly. "See you after school." 

And with that, she stalked out, leaving me standing deflatedly in a patch of sun.

I flung the door open with a crash, finding 36 pairs of eyes looking at me accusingly.

"You're late," Mr. Willis said dryly, turning from his position at the whiteboard.

"Sorry..." I whispered, slinking to my seat abashedly. A few people snickered.

"Nice going, Gi," laughed Derek. I shot him an irritated look and slid into the cold metal seat.

"Anyway," the teacher continued, "If you are able to find side C using Pythagorean Theorem, then you are able to solve in ratios if the triangles are similar. Without knowing the approximate value of the...."

Mr. Willis' voice drifted in and out as I focused on a poster on the wall.

Always be the best you can be! it read mockingly. I scowled. Today was not my day.

I thought of last night, standing in the hall with Legolas. Forgive me, he had said.

He was always so sweet, I kinda...Nope. Not going there. I was an expert at not thinking, as it always got me into trouble. I pictured Faewyn, always smiling, and then the stag. Was he an effigy of Lórien? His corporeal emissary? I wonder...

I blinked.

Faewyn was sitting in front of me, reading a voluminous book.

I was back. She looked up, startled.

"Gianna?!" she asked, agape.

"Apparently," I said, teetering at an unexplained bout of dizziness.

"You've been gone five minutes," she said teasingly. "Did you miss my company that much?"

"Apparently," I laughed again.

"So..." she began expectantly.

"I think I figured out this entertaining star phenomenon." I said cheerfully, as I began to explain. 

"You thought about me and you came back?" Faewyn asked, albeit a bit skeptically.

"Yes!" I insisted. "I was suppose to be in Trig but I got bored so I started thinking about you and stuff and I just--"

I was interrupted by a small wave of Faewyn's hand.

"Hold on," she said curiously. "You were where?"  

Oops. No trig in Middle Earth.

"Nothing," I said impatiently. "The point is that I can return whenever I want now."

"But for how long?" she asked, frowning.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But if I can come back whenever, maybe we could..."

I felt the familiar tug, but this time, I could ignore it.

"I should go," I said hurriedly. "Someone is trying to wake me up..."

Faewyn nodded, and I succumbed to the feeling.

 "Miss Caveraux," said an annoyed voice from next to me. "Miss Caveraux!"

I looked up to see Mr. Willis.

"I'm surprised at you, Gianna!" he said in astonishment. "First your tardiness, and now you are sleeping in class. Please don't let it happen again!"

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes with great difficulty and contented myself with a murmured apology. The class snickered again, so I allotted them a rebellious grin.

"Could you please tell us how to solve the sine of 45?" Mr. Willis inquired tiredly.

I gave him a saucy smile. "Certainly," I replied.

 School ended in the monotonous flurry of loudness and hurry to return home for the day. As I entered my front door, I saw a plate of Liberian rice bread on the counter. I know that sounds weird, but it's really good. It's basically banana bread made with rice flour, and I hadn't had any for the longest time. At any rate, by the time my mum entered the kitchen I had eaten two pieces and had just grabbed another.

"I see you are enjoying the fruits of my labor," she observed, coolly leaning over the counter to look at me.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you this morning," I grumbled.

"I guess I have to forgive you now," she sighed, with a hint of tease.

I laughed and gallivanted gaily upstairs to fight the daily battle against homework.

 I looked at my clock with a sleepy blink. Already 10:30? 

Even dinner was beginning to wear off now. I defeatedly tossed my notebook to the side and flicked the light switch. As the room flashed into darkness, I had a thought. I could go back whenever I wanted! Smiling to myself in the opacity of my room, I closed my eyes and thought of Greenwood.

I materialized into the large, warmly lit library, which was Faewyn's current haunt. Conveniently, I could regulate the location of my arrival, which was an upgrade from appearing in trees. 

I quietly examined the volume she was poring over until she looked up and saw me, flashing me a grin. 

"Le sulion," she said. "Look what I've found!" 

I peered over her shoulder at the intricate Tengwar. I may be fluent, but the elvish alphabet still took awhile to get used to. 

The book, called "A History of the Valar", was a detailed biography of each of the main Valar, and Faewyn had it open to a heading reading "Irmo: Giver of Dreams". From what I knew, Irmo was Lórien's actual and less commonly used alias. A delicate illustration indicated a likeness of Irmo, but what I noticed was the belt of three stars he wore around his waist. 

Faewyn looked at me. 

"So it is," I said in a hushed voice. "A mark of Lórien?" 

"We can't know for sure," Faewyn said admittedly, "But the coincidence is...remarkable." 

"But how do we know unequivocally?" I asked rationally. "There is no proof that the author of this script knew what he was talking about." 

"This was written by one of the oldest Noldor elves in Arda before he departed for Valinor two ages ago," she answered. "It is likely one of the most accurate works in Middle Earth." 

My skin prickled as I felt something brush against my bare arm, but I realized with a jolt that it was Legolas, and I hadn't realized he had entered the room. 

"Le sulion, Legolas," Faewyn said, without looking up. 

I said nothing.

"What have you found?" he asked Faewyn, glancing at the book. 

"I am looking for anything which could lead us to the origin of Gianna's blessing," she said, with a small sigh. She looked like she had been at it for hours. 

"Blessing?" I asked, trying to ignore Legolas's closeness. 

"Well, with the evidence so far, it seems that you have gained the favor of Lórien," Faewyn answered, "The question is why." 

"So this is why you wanted to go to the Ruins," Legolas said, as if realizing something. "I might have--"

He broke off suddenly, and I resisted the urge to turn and see where he'd gone. 

A few minutes later, with me and Faewyn pondering the book in quiet companionship, Legolas rushed into the room carrying a faded scroll. 

"What is that?" I asked curiously. 

"The other day, I found this in the Hall of Scholars," he answered, directly addressing me for the first time. 

"That was vague," I answered mildly. 

He looked at me, a small smile on his lips. "I wasn't finished," he replied. "Don't interrupt." 

I must have blushed because Faewyn looked at me with a smirk. 

Legolas continued. "This is a record of the most important documents in Arda which were gifted to the Eldar. So many were stolen, they had to be traced, for their precious information is irreplaceable. My grandfather, Oropher, had written the last of these down before they were lost and forgotten." 

Faewyn looked astounded. 

I, for my part, probably looked extremely confused. 

Faewyn spoke in her quiet, lyrical voice. "Let us see it, then." 

Legolas unfurled the tattered parchment with his slender hands and held it to the polished surface of the table. Curling Elvish script decorated the aged scroll, and Legolas deftly traced it down a row until his sharp intake of breath informed us he had found what he was seeking. 

"What is it?" Faewyn asked, urgently, her raven black hair a curtain over her face as she bent over the scroll. 

"Here." Legolas said, indicating to a phrase. 

A record of the Gifts of Irmo: Stolen by Morgoth Bauglir the Corrupter, F.A Dagor Bragollach. 

Um, what?

"I don-" I began, but I was cut off by Legolas. 

"In the First age, the Elvenking Fingolfin confronted Morgoth after he was challenged to single combat following the defeat of the Elves at Hithlum," he explained. "Fingolfin was killed, and his kingdom fell. He was one of the record keepers." 

I nodded, understanding. Faewyn's naneth, Tauredhel, had touched briefly upon this long ago in one of her history lessons. 

"So it is likely they could be in the Ruins of Barad-Dûr and Orodruin?" Faewyn confirmed. 

"If Sauron was handed the last records of Morgoth before his exile, then yes," I answered, much to my own surprise. "Right?" I looked to Legolas for approval. 

"That is correct," he said. "I only hope, for the sake of many things, that it was not destroyed nor stolen already, lest any quest be in vain." 

"Legolas," I said hesitantly. It had gotten harder to speak with him lately, and partly, I think, from an inherent fear of being judged by him. 

"Yes, Gia?" he replied, looking at me with his deep blue gaze. 

I blinked. 

"When will the King return?" I asked. "He will likely know other things to our benefit." 

"He should be back in a few days," he said. "Is your Realm's time still disordered?" 

"Somewhat," I shrugged. "These stars seemed to have abated it for the moment." 

"Then save it," he said. "Try not to return until a few days from now, unless you can't help it. In the case that the energy in the stars is expendable, we will need it, should we venture out in search of the scroll." 

"Very well," I said, with some defeat. He was right though, as always. 

The insistent tug of morning was getting harder to ignore. 

"I must go," I said, inclining my head to each of them. Faewyn wrapped me in a tight embrace, murmuring a quick "Galu," in my ear. I smiled and playfully shoved her.  

"Until we meet again," Legolas said, oddly formal. 

"Cheers," I grinned cheekily, vanishing into my morning.