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[rowancrowned]

 

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[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?