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[rowancrowned]

 

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[singularwill]

[He isn't sure it will work, at first. Thranduil is both far away, and not of his world, so the journey to him through the Fade is not a straightforward one.

But Solas is patient.

The Fade shifts around him perceptibly as he finds the borders of Thranduils dream - the scenery changing to something unfamiliar, and he is suddenly walking through countless figures and faces talking and laughing that he doesn't recognize, but presumably, Thranduil knows. When he finally spots the elf, it takes only a thought, and suddenly he is beside him.]

Aneth ara, Thranduil. I hope you do not mind the intrusion.

[rowancrowned]

[ sometimes, sometimes, his dreams feel more like the careful reminiscing of reverie, the careful review of a cherished memory. tonight, his hall bears the trapping of some feast, and off in the corner, a blond elfling is playing with a red-haired one, and thranduil is content, resplendent, kingly-

and then solas is standing by his side.

he sets the wineglass down, and an elf-who-isn't-really-galion moves to refill it reaches from his seat at thranduil's left to refill it. the chair on his right is empty, and it is to that that thranduil gestures with a smile. ]

Not in the least, friend. Sit. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?