The first pinprick of light burst through the darkness, and something stirred within Charlotte's chest to greet it. Her muscles relaxed, and she let herself drift through the abyss, listening to her heart rushing, pounding blood through her veins. Worries flit beyond her grasp, vague recollections of faces swam in and out, and then he materialized from the emptiness: a stern, tight-lipped man, square-jawed with sorrowful eyes— no, not a man, an elf with arched ears. Even as she studied him, his brow twitched, rising to meet his silver hair.

"Hmm." His voice was deep, thundering through her bones. Dark eyes narrowed, debating what to do with her. Another burst of brilliant light appeared over his shoulder, and Charlotte warmed. The ellon ignored it, though his head cocked to the side. "What an interesting plan, Nienna," he said.

An elleth cloaked in mist swirled into existence. "Release her, brother." Her voice was soft, aching, sweeping through Charlotte and leaving behind tremors of grief. Tears pooled at Charlotte's lashes, though she couldn't account for the sorrow that surged within her. "She's not yours to claim yet," Nienna insisted.

"She has strayed near my halls," he answered, his gaze still focused on Charlotte. "I had suspected your request was not as innocent as it appeared."

Another light emerged, bright and twinkling. Stars, Charlotte realized. They came quickly after that, each bursting into existence until she was swarmed in the glow of thousands. Her skin itched, burned with desire, and something raged within, hammering against its cage.

"Námo," a bright voice called, and then the largest of the stars emerged. "This one is mine, and I have not finished with her, nor has she wandered far enough into your halls to be claimed by your rule."

The new elleth was stunning, the most beautiful woman ever to exist. Later, when she tried to remember a single detail about her, Charlotte would only be able to recall the light, bright as a small sun, illuminating the elleth's frame.

Námo frowned, deep waves cutting across his brow as he finally turned to face the ellith. "Are not all souls mine to claim? I see your touch upon her, Varda, but this one alters what will be, and that is my domain."

"She is ours," Nienna said, "and her task is incomplete. You have seen the path Middle Earth would travel without her. Release her, brother."

Charlotte tried to pry her lips apart to beg for her freedom, for the burning to stop. Chills wracked her body. Her skin was feverish. "Please," she croaked. In the back of her mind, a voice, haunting and anguished, called for her.

Námo nodded once, decided, and said, "Very well, Nienna. Varda. But I warn you: Vairë is most displeased that her tapestries continue to unravel."

He vanished as if he'd never been there at all, leaving Charlotte to face the two ellith.

"We do not have long, little one," Nienna said gently. Her robe writhed around her, gleaming in Varda's light and the glow of the stars. "Something hunts you from the shadows, and you must succeed in your task. Should the Greenwood fall, so too shall Middle Earth succumb to Sauron's poison."

Varda nodded, "Do not expend your fëa so thoroughly again, for you are like but unlike the others, and your fëa is of my making. Your soul is strong, but unstable without support to temper it. You will burn yourself out."

Nienna swept a single tear from her porcelain cheek and pressed it into the stone of Charlotte's necklace. "Return, Charlotte," she said, her voice fading. "You have all that you need to succeed."

And then Charlotte was careening through space, burning bright and hot until she slammed back into her body.

She wasn't expecting the pain that came with being in her own limbs. Everything ached, and though the tremors had subsided, she still felt the rush of heat under her skin. Her fingers itched to tear at her tunic, to rip the fabric from her body. Too warm. She was far too warm.

A breeze curled across her face, and she tried to turn into it, but her head lolled against something soft. It rose and fell beneath her cheek.

"Charlotte?"

She knew that voice. Her mind finally registered the firm pressure against her side, the weight of an arm wrapped around her.

"Charlotte," Thranduil tried again. Pain and desperation colored his voice. "Come on, open your eyes for me."

Raindrops kissed her skin. She swore she could hear them sizzle as they struck. Her fingers twitched, the muscles clenching in her arm, the spikey grass fluttering against her. She fought the weight holding her eyes.

"That's it," Thranduil coaxed. His chest shuddered against her side.

She finally peeled her tired eyes open, her gaze settling on him, absorbing every feature. His hair was askew, his cheeks painted with tears, but his eyes, his beautiful silver eyes, were filled with such relief.

"It worked," he whispered, before barking a somewhat hysterical laugh. "Maethor! Haedirn! She's awake!" His hand cupped her face, his thumb gently smoothing over her cheekbone.

He cradled her in his lap, his back resting against an enormous oak. High above her head, the barren branches pitched and swayed like reaching hands, creaking and cracking together in macabre applause. Pale fingers crawled out from her memory, carrying the terror of being trapped, the suffocating void that stretched beyond escape. Her lungs were too shallow to convince her she was still alive, but there was a steady thump, thump, thump, beneath her feverish cheek, and Thranduil's whole being sang with it: you're alive, you're alive, you're alive.

Maethor and Haedirn popped into view a second later, both just as unkempt as their king. Her heart seized as she took in their expressions and the redness around their eyes. What had happened while she was out?

"Legolas?" she asked, terrified of the answer. If anything had happened to him...

Thranduil's brows scrunched in confusion, but he said, "Legolas is safe in the caverns with Ellavorn."

Charlotte tried to pull herself up, but couldn't get her abs to cooperate. The muscles tightened painfully, and she groaned, flopping back on Thranduil. Before she could try again, she heard snuffling, and then great puffs of air tickled her cheek.

"Berior," she smiled loopily, turning her head to greet the enormous elk. His fur was patchy and worn, but he pressed his damp nose to her forehead and nudged her. "You're looking rough, big guy," Charlotte said, gingerly reaching up to card her fingers through his hair.

The elk snorted in disbelief, and Haedirn huffed out a skeptical laugh. "He looks rough, she says." Haedirn shook his head. "You are the most reckless stubborn elleth I've ever met. I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't try to heal them until the morning, after food, and with supervision. What were you thinking?" He cried.

Charlotte winced. She probably deserved that, but she'd do it again. How could she not? The elves finally had some measure of long-term relief. Relief from the pain she'd caused. What did it matter if she suffered in the process?

Maethor squeezed her hand gently, "I wish you would've waited, but I understand."

"You understand?" Haedirn glared at his partner. "She nearly died, Maethor!"

"I'm well aware," Maethor said, his eyes were haunted, and his grip on her hand tightened.

"Then how could you possibly condone it?" Haedirn pressed. His footsteps paced beside them, one hand zigzagging through his hair as he worked himself up. "I've never seen an elf come back after their fëa dimmed that much. She could've faded; any other elf would have faded."

"And we run the risk of dying every time we leave for the border, mellon nin," Maethor soothed. "It is unfair to judge her for risks we take each day in honor. We are at risk being her guards as well, but I know you wouldn't trade your days as her guard for a safer life."

Haedirn sighed, and his shoulders collapsed. His back was to them, but Charlotte heard him clearly. "We go to the borders with trained warriors at our side. We don't face danger alone."

"She wasn't alone," Thranduil interjected, "though it almost wasn't enough."

Charlotte just wanted to rest. And she wanted to soak in a cold bath. For hours. Maybe she could do both at the same time? Then again, drowning in a bathtub didn't sound like a fun way to go either, and she felt bone-tired enough that it would be a likely outcome.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte said. She tried to pull herself up again, and when she failed, Thranduil lifted her into a sitting position and settled her between his legs with her back against his chest. When his long fingers pushed her hair off her face, she sighed happily and let her head drop into the space between his neck and shoulder, her eyes sliding closed.

Thranduil's laugh rumbled under her ear. "I want to let you sleep," he whispered, "But you need to pull your light up first."

Charlotte groaned and burrowed further into his shoulder. "Nope," she mumbled. Her eyelids were scalding. "Too hot. Need a nap."

His cool hand pressed against her forehead, and his "hmm" vibrated against her cheek. "Maethor, Haedirn," he said, "do another perimeter run. I want eyes north and south before she unveils her fëa."

Maethor grunted, and she heard him shifting before he released her hand. "You think the surge is causing her fever?"

"We're about to find out," Thranduil said. "Go, make sure nothing comes for her. Ellavorn should have sent additional guards by now. Run a canopy loop and then find them. Nothing comes near her without us knowing about it. Think you can help, Berior?"

Berior must've agreed, because Thranduil said, "I'll summon you when we're ready to return."

It was silent for a few moments, as her guards and elk disappeared into the trees to carry out their duties. Charlotte let herself enjoy the birdsong mingling with the steady thumping of Thranduil's heart, her lungs filling in time with his.

She wasn't sure how she'd ended up in the forest. Judging by the brisk air and burnished pink sunlight drifting over the treetops, it was either early morning or late evening. So it wasn't a matter of if she had missed time, but how much. The last thing she remembered was healing the elves with Thranduil. "Are they all okay?" Charlotte asked.

"The elves?" His fingers smoothed down her hair, and he pulled back to look at her. He smelled of pine again and the ever-present vanilla scent she'd come to associate with his secret midnight desserts. "You nearly end in Mandos's Halls, and you're worried about the other elves?"

"Thranduil…"

"They're fine," he assured her. "Thanks to you, they're resting peacefully."

Something niggled the back of her mind, but she couldn't piece her brain back together. "What happened?"

"I'll explain it as soon as you're taken care of," he assured her. "Join me?"

At first, she didn't understand what he was asking her to do. She was already cuddled in his arms, the full length of her body pressed against his, but then the light glowed across her lids, warm and bright and welcoming. He'd unleashed the entirety of his fëa, and she could imagine it piercing through every inch of the clearing. His soul caressed hers, luring it to the surface, waves surging beneath her skin, cresting up to answer his light.

"Let go, love," He whispered into her ear, the words shivering, warm and husky, down her neck.

She shattered.

Thranduil gasped as her fëa exploded, the light burning through the clearing, so bright it overtook his own. She cracked her tired eyes open, watched the silver of her fëa glittering on his skin.

"Incredible," he murmured. His arm tightened around her, and his eyes flickered down for a moment before locking onto hers. "Now connect to the forest. Let your fëa rush through just like we practiced."

There was no grace to the tsunami that swept from her soul into the forest's song, and the trees groaned and bent like reeds under the force. Thranduil must've faced a backlash through his own connection because his breathing quickened, and his body tensed beneath hers, his arms tightening around her middle involuntarily.

She felt the excess energy in her fëa trickling through their link, from her to the forest to Thranduil and back. By the time it reached her again, it was no more than an echo. The fever was slowly dissipating, allowing her mind to settle back into place, and her light cooled until it twined together with his, perfectly balanced. She felt his exhale of relief, and then he dipped his head to rest against hers.

"You terrified me," he muttered. "I thought for sure I would have to sail west to beg Námo for your return."

"I met him, actually," she narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. She didn't notice the horror on Thranduil's face. "Námo and his sister? Nienna. Varda was there too."

What had they said though?

"You met them?" Thranduil breathed. "And he let you return?"

"Nienna and Varda didn't give him much choice."

"That confirms our suspicion that you were sent here," he said. "Now, we at least we can be sure who sent you."

Their joined light danced across his blond hair, and she longed to reach up and smooth her fingers through it as he'd done for her. Though she was content to rest in his arms, memories were slowly leaking back into her awareness: the feel of inky blackness shrouding her, the stars popping into existence around her, the two ellith determined to return her to Middle Earth… "The Greenwood," Charlotte gasped. "'If the Greenwood falls, so too will Middle Earth.'"

"Did they tell you that?" Thranduil asked.

"Nienna did, just before she sent me home. She mentioned Sauro? Something about 'Sauro's poison.'"

"Sauron," Thranduil growled. "I should have known he wasn't truly destroyed. I suspected with the rise in attacks in the south, but there's been no whisper of him since the war. We'll need to discreetly alert the others. You cannot leave the Greenwood, not only because Nienna has warned you, but it would be dangerous for you to travel in the open."

"So, you'll try to bring the others here?"

Thranduil's mouth thinned in displeasure, but he nodded. "We do not normally allow outsiders within Eryn Galen, but we'll have to adjust. I will send missives to Elrond and Amroth as soon as we return to the caverns."

"Despite the circumstances, it'll be good to see Amroth and Celebrían again," she said. "And Meluieth will be pleased to see Lord Elrond."

"I would prefer it if we kept this between us for now."

"Didn't we learn the last time that we shouldn't keep secrets from each other?"

"We're not."

"Thranduil…" She bit her lip. "At least Ellavorn, Haedirn, and Maethor. They're fiercely loyal; it would be a betrayal to exclude them from the information without reason."

"The reason is that we already have a betrayer in our midst." Thranduil studied the trees, his fingers curling through a lock of her hair without realizing it. It was soothing for both of them, so she said nothing. "The reason you were in danger yesterday, the reason three orcs managed to slip past my border guard, was because someone ordered the patrol to move further east."

"Ordered them how?"

"That is what I intend to find out." His eyes grew cold, and the predator she'd seen so long ago was back.

"You don't seriously think it's one of those three, do you?" Charlotte turned in his arms in surprise. Thranduil's frown told her everything she needed to know. "They're not Nemir, Thranduil," she said. "Those ellyn are basically family at this point. They would die before they betrayed you. Ellavorn was a mess when we ran into him after the attack."

His look of uncertainty, so similar to Legolas's, crushed her. Between Nemir, Lothuial, and Cúthon, she was surprised Thranduil trusted anyone at all. He was sitting in a viper's nest.

"I recognize that look on your face," he chuckled. "Calm yourself, little dragon. You cannot fight all of my enemies for me. Though I'd dearly love to watch you."

His words stirred low in her belly, and a flush bloomed up her neck as she scrambled off of his lap. "We should get back," she said, coughing when the words came out too high.

She couldn't be selfish. He was already buried in orc attacks and dealing with a conniving elleth and a scheming advisor, and she had to figure out how to save the elves she'd poisoned and prevent the Greenwood from falling.

What happened after that though?

She'd briefly considered fleeing the Eryn Galen, back when she was still smarting from Meluieth's rejection and her sudden fall from grace, but she actually had people here. Then again, she'd had people in Virginia too. Well, one person. How many days had passed without her thinking about her mother? Shame filled her. Was she already forgetting? Charlotte conjured her mother's face in her mind, just to reassure herself that she still remembered. But were her mother's eyes more blue or grey? How many crows feet peeked from the corners of her gaze? The fine details were slipping away like ash on the wind. She'd been in Middle Earth for a month, but it felt so much longer. The last twenty-four hours alone felt like a year. Would the memory fade entirely before she could even find a way back?

Her previous life never seemed so far away as in that moment, standing in the liminal space where her next choice would no doubt seal her future, one in which Charlotte of Virginia essentially died, taking with her the only remnants of her mother's existence.

"Charlotte?" Thranduil stood behind her, and his concern only made her feel worse.

"I can't do this right now," she whispered. "I just… I shouldn't. There are sick elves and orcs and crazy ellith, and it's just…"

He grabbed her hand gently, tugging her around until her eyes met his soft grey ones. "For once in your life, stop thinking about what you should do and just reach out and seize what you want."

"It's not that simple!" She pulled herself free, stepping away when he tried to follow her. "I can't just disregard the safety and wellbeing of others because I want something."

"You won't be! It's your life. You can't live entirely for somebody else. Caring for others doesn't mean sacrificing yourself."

"I'm not sacrificing myself!"

"What do you call last night then?" He argued. His arms crossed over his chest. "You nearly died!"

"But I didn't!"

"Only because I dragged you out here in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea what it took to bring you back?" His breathing was ragged. "I had to connect my fëa to the forest, and then drag yours out. All in the insane hope that I could spark your fëa to life again. It was so weak when we got you here, I'd thought you'd already left for Mandos's Halls!"

"Are you telling me you jump-started my fëa like a car battery?"

"I have no idea what half of those words mean," he huffed.

"You used the forest and your fëa to restart my fëa?"

"Vaguely, yes." He ran a hand through his hair, and she noticed how tired he looked. He must not have slept the entire time she was out. Yet another thing to feel awful for. "It was the only thing I could think to do," he said. "There's no cure for fading, at least not one that can be given by another. You already have a connection to the forest, and we've developed one in our time together. It's maybe more accurate to say I coaxed your fëa, and it worked enough that it was dim but there. It kept it stable until your fëa suddenly flooded just before you woke. I only made the connection to keep you from fading. Something I wouldn't have needed to do if you weren't recklessly tossing away your life."

"That's entirely unfair! I was trying to help your people!"

"And you can do that, safely, without nearly ending your existence. You're allowed to live and be happy, Charlotte."

"You don't get it! I poisoned them, Thranduil. How can I even think about being happy when they're suffering because of me?" She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from crying. She was so sick of tears. Sick of feeling weak and useless and damnit, she used to be the one who took care of others. Now, she only made things worse.

"It wasn't your fault!" He insisted. "Charlotte, you didn't do this to them on purpose. Stop punishing yourself. Your happiness isn't currency for their welfare. It won't heal them."

She shook her head, stepping into the shadows of the tree line, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. Her hands pressed against the bark of the nearest tree, needing to feel, to be grounded. The giant beech came to life beneath her touch, and the call of the forest sang through her blood, more potent than she'd ever felt before. He was there, deep within the song, a constant presence weaving throughout, and she hung her head, knowing even as she listened, that he had invaded her own heart just as thoroughly.

His hand closed around her arm, and the forest spun as he gently turned her. "I will respect whatever it is you desire," he said. His body arched over hers, warm and inviting, and his voice sent tremors down her spine. Her head tilted to meet his eyes, even as his lips hovered above hers, teasing her with the illusion of his touch. "But I'm begging you," he whispered against her mouth, "please, decide based on what you truly desire. I will endure thousands of years accepting whatever part of your heart you're willing to offer me, but the last thing I want is to be just your friend."

His lips crashed down on hers, hands diving into her hair, curling her back to deepen his kiss, and she was lost in him. Her fingers clutched to him as the world both spun and stilled, and her heart threatened to pound out from her chest. His mouth was scalding against hers, firm and insistent, soothing and inciting until, just as she thought she would collapse from it all, he pulled back, his chest heaving in time with hers, and he rested his forehead against her own with his dark lashes kissing the pale skin of his cheeks.

Each desperate breath caressed her skin as he said, "To clarify: I wish to be your friend, but I want more, so much more, than mere friendship. If you'll have me?" His eyelids fluttered up, revealing the thin sliver of stormy grey around dark pupils.

How could she have ever thought she could resist this? When her heart was hammering against her ribs, and her very soul was begging to twine with his? She beamed at him, felt the corners of her eyes crinkling with unrestrained joy, and her hands cupped his face as she flung herself up on tiptoe to seal her lips against his.

He caught her, fingers delving down to her hips, pulling her flush against his body while his tongue traced the line of her mouth, begging until she opened, sweeping through her while his feet drove them, stumbling until she slammed her back against a tree. His hips pressed against her, pinning her in place, the heat of his body scorching against her.

His thumbs slipped beneath her tunic, the callouses from training scratching against her smooth skin. When his hand splayed wide across her spine, she arched, stealing a decadent groan from his lips. The sound sent heat pooling between her thighs, and she slipped her fingers into his hair to tug him closer, just as his fingers abandoned their quest, gliding down her body until they lifted her legs to wrap around him. His lips traveled over her cheek, down to her neck, placing burning kisses against her skin. When his tongue darted out, lapping gently at her pulse, she clenched to him, felt his hardness pressed against her center, and she cursed the layers between them.

"Thranduil," she moaned, and his lips stole the sound from her mouth. She swore his answering sigh rippled within her. Her fingers gently tugged his hair, arching her back to feel more of him.

When he pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers, she fluttered her drowsy eyelids open, enjoying the sight of his swollen lips and tousled hair, imagining that she appeared just as ravaged by his efforts.

"Bed," he panted.

"Absolutely."

Thranduil chuckled, his nose rubbing the tip of hers as he gently shook his head. "To sleep. You're still recovering, meleth nîn."

The disappointment must have been clear on her face because his eyes darkened, and he arched his hips against her, drawing a gasp from her as his hardness pressed against her core.

"I have had weeks to plan what I want to do with you," he whispered, his eyes locked on hers. "When we bond, I plan to do it where Maethor and Haedirn won't hear me." Her skin pebbled beneath his words, his lips brushing over her mouth. "Because when I bond with you, I'm going to tear the caverns down around us."

His lips swallowed her moan, though he kept it painfully brief. And when he set her back on her feet, both of them beaming and flushed, she found herself wishing for that cold bath again, because, though Thranduil had dowsed her fever, he'd set her ablaze.


AN: Like? Dislike? Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm so excited that you're enjoying the story!