It was all black.
Therefore, it must be dark.
Yes. If black then dark.
Uuuugh… Here we go. Five, four, three, two, one;
A shriek comes from nowhere. There it is.
Ghoulish laughter, surrounding her.
Blackness. Laugher. Blackness. Cackling. Creatures. Horrible creatures. Unseen. Blackness. Laughter. Red eyes.
Wait what? Those weren't there a second ago...
Anyways… red eyes. Gleaming eyes. Gleaming teeth.
That meant one thing.
A short scream came out of Emma as she shot out of bed. Literally. Out of bed and onto the floor. She curled into herself and sobbed rather loudly. Probably too loudly, but she didn't really consider it. She was sobbing loudly enough that she didn't hear the door open and close.
She started violently when she felt arms wrap around her.
"Shhh… it's alright. It's just me," Miri whispered soothingly. Emma sat up and wrapped her arms around Miri's neck, sobbing into her shoulder.
"They were laughing… Laughing at me.." Emma choked out. "And it's eyes. It's eyes…"
"You're safe now. It's alright," Miri said quietly, stroking Emma's hair back gently. They had gone through this routine before. Ever since Emma had been saved.
They sat there on the floor, Emma quietly crying and Miri silently worrying. They sat there until the sun finished it's slow journey over the horizon, bathing Greenwood the Great in a shining golden light.
Emma's lessons had been going wonderfully.
She could manipulate almost any plant out there.
Which brought her to this moment. Right here. Right now.
She peered out from around the bush at the unsuspecting Legolas. A deranged chuckle escaped her lips. She saw him approach the tree and a maniacal gleam lit her eyes. Five… four… three… two.. one… The tree root shot out and wrapped around Legolas, effectively pinning him to the ground
Emma burst into hysterical laughter, tumbling out of the bush and falling on her side.
"EMMA GET ME OUT AT ONCE!" Legolas hollered.
Emma just laughed harder, managing to choke out a strangled, "I wish I had a camera…"
Legolas paused in his struggles for a brief moment. "A what?"
"Nothing!" Emma sang before bursting into another fit of giggles. Legolas resumed his struggles, becoming increasingly frustrated with the giggling culprit.
"What is the meaning of this?"
Both elf and human/elf/whatever-she-is ceased their antics and blinked up at the Elvenking, who stood ominously above them, the shining sun making his hair almost unbearably bright. So bright, in fact, that Emma covered her eyes and whined in protest.
This brought back to both of them a memory of her rescue-
"Your hair. It hurts to look at it. Too bright. Put it away."
"Come now. Let's not be too over-dramatic."
*end of le flashback*
Thranduil rolled his eyes at Emma and looked over to his son, raising an eyebrow loftily. "What, pray, got you down there?"
Legolas coughed, "Uh, Emma… She decided she needed some practice."
Thranduil looked back at Emma who was now glaring at him with defiance. "Release him."
Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "Because I said to."
Emma stuck her chin up slightly and crossed her arms. "What if I don't want to?"
Thranduil smirked. "I'll do it myself."
Emma watched in awe as the roots quickly drew back from Legolas' legs. She turned her eyes to Thrandy, who was standing there looking rather smug. "You never told me you could do it too!" she all but yelled.
Thranduil sighed. "You never asked."
There was a slight pause as Legolas dusted himself off and sent a reproachful glare at Emma, and then to Gimli, who was sitting a way off, smoking his pipe and chuckling.
"Are you going to be at the feast tonight Emma?" Legolas asked, once the silence had gone on for time, with all three of them gazing in different directions (Legolas at the tree, Emma at the sky [She was still on the ground] and Thranduil at Emma).
"Say again?" Emma queried, starting slightly.
"Are. You. Going. To. The. Feast," Legolas repeated with exaggerated slowness.
"Sure," Emma said flippantly, flopping back down onto the grass. Thranduil raised an eyebrow, but did not comment, choosing instead to turn abruptly around and stride off as if he had something important to do (Legolas knew that he really didn't). A soft snore drew his attention to Emma, who- to his dismay- had fallen asleep sprawled out on the grass.
Legolas rolled his eyes. Luckily the rumors had died down slightly, so he deemed it safe to let her sleep in peace.
Hopefully she would wake up in time for the feast.
Emma laughed merrily as she and Legolas whirled around the dance floor to the beat of the energetic song. This was by no means a refined song, and involved lots of spinning and whirling and turning (I just repeated myself).
At the end of the turn, Legolas let go of her hands and she spun over to whomever was next to her, which turned out to be Nylan of all people- uh- elves, and he grinned down at her. Emma returned it and was turned over to an altogether unfamiliar ellon.
By the end of the song, everyone was breathing heavily and laughing. And congratulating one-another on not passing out.
The next song started, and it reminded Emma of one of those dances from the Victorian era. With the lines and stuff. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Nylan in an exaggerated bow, holding his hand out to her.
"My lady! May I have this dance," he said in an elvish posh voice.
Emma giggled and executed a -not perfect, but passable- curtsey and said, in kind, "Of course, my lord."
The dances of the elves were a very beautiful thing to watch, and remarkably easy to do. As earlier stated, this particular dance was not unlike one from the Victorian era of our world, two lines of dancers, one ellyth and one ellin, faced each other, holding the hand of the one opposite. At one point, the ellon, would let go of the hand of the elleth opposite him and switch (gracefully of course) with the ellon to his right. Likewise for the ellyth.
This was how Emma found herself dance with the Elvenking, half-way through the song. Talk about awkward. Emma stared up at him in surprise and said, straight to the point as always, "I thought you didn't dance."
Thranduil raised an eyebrow, "On the contrary, my lady, I dance quite often. You just have not payed any attention."
Emma opened her mouth to protest, but realized that he was right. "One to you, Thrandiffic.." she muttered sullenly.
Thranduil, for once, didn't appear annoyed by her choice of name. In fact, he had actually smirked. Emma found herself slightly baffled, but just as she was about to ask him about it, they switched again.
So much for that.
Emma wandered over to the long table, filled with all kinds of delicious goodies and observed the elleth the king was currently talking to. She was beautiful, of course, and had waist length blond hair. A big chest (but, thinking on it, most of the ellyth here had big chests) and a beautiful floor-length white (ugh) dress. Emma, for some inexplicable reason, found herself disliking the elleth.
Emma thought about why she would not like this elleth.
She could come up with no logical reasons.
Now, to look at the illogical.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Nylan (where did he come from?) once again asking her to dance. Emma once again accepted, even though she was pretty tired, and once again, found herself whirling around the dance floor.