I was attempting to do my English homework when I realised that there was a pale glow surrounding me. I distractedly ran a hand over the stars on my collarbone and tried to focus. 

"I no longer care," I said out loud to my homework, closing the textbook tiredly.

I was making my way over to my bed when my room flashed and I found myself looking at the ceiling.

I should probably let you know that it was not, in fact, my ceiling. It was painted a pale gold, and thin mahogany wood curled around each other to make intricate patterns on the wall. I turned over, casually noticing that I was curled up on a large chair. As I blinked, I noticed the longbow hanging behind the door. Wasn't that Legolas's?

I scowled, picturing the conversation:

Legolas would probably say something like "Gianna? What brings you here?" and I would probably say something along the lines of "I really have no idea, but I'll be going now. Bye."

Um, awkward.

But he had a really nice chair.

I sat up with a start and silently berated myself for even considering to stay and nap in this lovely elven chair. I tightened my belt, making sure my knife wasn't about to impale my appendix, and cautiously padded to the door, straining my ears for any possible sound. My neck prickled at a sudden draft and my adrenaline started rushing as I neared the solid wooden door.

With a semblance of panic, I noticed that the door knob was carved with curling stars, woven with gold in pale pink and yellow.

"But he mustn't be late," remarked a slightly amused voice directly on the other side of the door.

"He will not be, my Prince," assured another voice. "I will send word to him promptly."

Chills went up my spine. I tensed and held my breath, uncertain of what to do. My reflexes sized up the issue. There was a small wardrobe in the corner, I could always hide. But that, I figured, would be more impertinent. One did not simply hide in random Prince's closets. I inched towards the door and--it swung open, causing me to flinch.

Legolas was still unaware of my presence, as he faced the retreating elf. With a light motion, the door swung closed, ruffling my hair. He turned, and I bowed my head respectively. 

"Gianna?" he said wryly.

"Hey," I murmured. "I am sorry to..."

Legolas smiled, and herded me over to the chair I had just vacated.

"Here, sit down." he offered. "Now, pray tell. What brought you into my bedroom at this late hour?"

I felt a burning blush creep up the sides of my neck like a trickle of fire. "How late is it?" 

"Almost dawn," he said thoughtfully. 

"I am sorry, my Prince," I said respectfully, meeting his gaze sharply. "I just realized if the stars are glowing I mustn't touch."

He slightly raised his eyebrow, quirking a small smile at that comment.

"They were glowing?" he asked, after a brief pause.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging, fingering the hem of my tunic. "I mean, suddenly there was this halo of light around me and--maybe it's a sign that we should...that we should go." I finished.

I didn't want to risk him being against the idea again, but after the whole possible "you have x amount of star minutes" thing, it seemed possible, even likely.

I peered at him, gauging his reaction.

His eyes widened slightly.

"What?" He asked abruptly.

"Um, that it's a sign?" I asked cautiously.

"That's because it is," he said nonchalantly. "That's exactly what it is."

He reached for my hand and pulled me out of the chair, turning to me with a spark in his eyes.

"Gianna?" he said.

"Yes?" I answered nervously.

"It's time to pack," he replied, pulling me out the door and into the hallway.

"But what of the King?" I asked, breathless. "Won't he-"

"He got here ten minutes ago," Legolas answered, striding down the hall purposefully.

"What were you talking about that is was a sign?" I inquired, remembering his words.

"I saw the stag today," he said, meeting my gaze. "For the first time in a thousand years."

We ended up in a dimly lit room, which Legolas informed me was the Kings Armoury.

I was a little apprehensive of "borrowing" the Elvenkings items, but clearly Legolas did these things all the time. He tossed me an ornate longbow and a quiver of arrows.

"This is lovely," I told him, tracing the patterns on the pale wood.

"Le fael (thank you)," he answered. "It's mine."

"Legolas," I began with a hapless sigh, "I can't just--"

"I want you to use it," he said firmly, "For luck."

I rolled my eyes.

Dwarves were supposed to be the stubborn ones.

I grabbed a short, dark leather belt and strapped my quiver onto my back. Unfortunately, I couldn't do the final buckle because, naturally, it was caught in my hair.

I prayed to the Valar that Legolas wouldn't see me blundering around and strained to reach it.

Apparently, mortal prayers are ignored by the Valar because just then, Legolas came up next to me.

"May I help, hiril vuin (My lady)?" He asked gently, with a light undertone of sarcasm.

"No," I said belligerently. "I can do this myself, thank you very much."

Legolas shrugged and returned to his knives. "It's your hair."

"What?" I looked at him irritably.

"When I was five hundred years old," Legolas started nonchelantly. "I got tangled in the buckle of a quiver strap. One of the guards ended up having to untangle my hair." He smiled ruefully. "Don't tell."

I raise my eyebrow at this ridiculous story.

"Fine, my Prince," I huffed, somewhat sarcastically. "Will you do it?"

He didn't answer but I felt his slim fingers trying the strap in the back.

For whatever reason, chills went down my spine as he accidentally brushed against my neck.

"Thank you," I said meekly.

He smiled and opened the door. "Let us go find my father," he said.

We were bowing in the throne room a few minutes later. Thranduil was standing and speaking to a guard quietly and dismissed him when he saw Legolas and I standing there.

"Mae govannen," he said, with a short tone. He was still in a heavy travel cloak and full armour, he really must have gotten back a few minutes ago.

"You must go, of course," Thranduil said after we had answered his greeting.

"If you wish it, my king," Legoas said, though he cast me a sideways glance.

Thranduil descended the steps to where we were standing.

"Although most evil has fled this land, there are still dangerous entities hiding in the ruins of Barad-Dûr and Mordor. Gianna has been allowed time by Írmo, Lord of Lorien, in order to discover the means for her appearance here. Gianna, how much time passes in your world when you are here?" 

"About the same amount of time, usually," I said, inclining my head slightly. 

"But not anymore?" he pressed, shrewdly. 

"Now...I'm not sure." 

"Very well," the Elvenking said, majestically deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "Legolas, do you have any idea of what you are looking for?" 

"Yes," he replied, lifting his chin a little. "Any document which was gifted to the Quendi in the First Age and stolen during the Reign of Darkness from one of the record keepers. There might be some answer to many unanswered questions." 

"Excuse my interruption," I said. "But I thought that the objective is to find out why and how I got to be here." 

"Now, Gianna," Thranduil said with a sly smile. "You aren't the only one who matters in the scheme of things. It is possible that others like you could posses entrance to our realms through magical means and it's important that we find that out." 

"Of course, my Lord," I answered, but I looked down abashedly. Of course a King had to rule his country safely. 

"Now, you must leave now," Thranduil said, with a hint of urgency. "I have three willing guards to accompany you, and you must take Faewyn. She is a strong warrior. I have sent for her and she is waiting outside the gates. Take my leave, and be careful." 

The Elvenking looked at Legolas one last time and swept from the room without a sound. 
"Tolo, Gianna," Legolas said. (Come, Gianna)

We took the bridge out into the pale forest light and indeed found Faewyn waiting, flanked by three guards and holding two horses. 

Why were we even doing this? I thought, as I checked my weapons. Thranduil may have something to find out from it, but it seems so pointless. 

"Gia?" came a soft voice from next to me. Legolas was handing me the reins to a gorgeous white stallion. 

"He's beautiful," I said, stroking his velvet muzzle. "What's his name?" 

"He doesn't have one," he told me. 

"What? Why?" I asked. 

"Because they are named by their masters. And he has no master." 

Faewyn beamed at me. "The King is giving him to you, Gia. You are to name him." 

I looked at the horse's warm brown eyes. "Thank you," I said to Legolas, since he and the King were related. 

Legolas laughed softly. "You are welcome, mellon-nin." 

The other guards bowed and introduced themselves. 

"I am Maldor," the tallest one said, inclining his head. He had shining brown hair and green eyes, and it looked like he fought mainly with a large sword which hung at his belt. 

"I am Gliron, and my comrade is Faeldring." said a tall, lithe looking elf, already mounted.

"Le sulion," I said with a short bow to both of them.

Faewyn was strapping some large leather bags onto our horses and she informed me they were filled with the necessary supplies for our journey. I mounted my horse, now christened Eärelin, and Legolas came up next to me. 

"Let us be off," he said.