Her footsteps were soft as she tiptoed from Thranduil's room, slowly closing the door behind her so as not to make a sound. She had donned her dress from the previous evening, hoping to slip to her room relatively unseen. Legolas's door was closed, and she wondered if he was already attending to his lessons or if he was still asleep. But the moment she cracked the door to the public section of the royal wing, she had her answer.
"Charlotte?" Legolas stopped midstep, his mouth ajar. She would've laughed at the wildness of his hair and the pink sleep marks still embedded in his cheek if not for the fact that he was impeccably dressed in his tunic and leggings, and she was still wearing yesterday's dress. She was thankful he hadn't seen her in it. "Did you stay the night in the spare room?" He asked.
Charlotte fumbled. Thranduil had wanted to talk to him first, but she didn't want to lie to him. Legolas frowned at how long it was taking for her to answer. She pasted on an eager smile and decided deflection was in order. "Good morning to you too, little leaf. Has your tutor come by yet? I was hoping to speak with him, and your adar mentioned arranging a meeting."
Legolas humphed. "He's due any moment, and Adar has been in his office all morning, at least since I woke."
Suddenly the messy hair and grumpy expression made sense. "Your adar normally does your hair, doesn't he?"
"I tried!" Legolas sagged, his arms unfolding to reveal his thin circlet. His lips pouted, and he looked mutinous. "I can't get my hair to stay in its braids. I've tried six times! Six! They just keep falling out, and I'm awful at it."
Charlotte pinched her lips to keep from smiling. While she thought it was a bit adorable, it was clear that her little leaf was distressed. "And have you had breakfast?"
"No," he said sullenly. He glared at the door to Thranduil's office as if his adar had banned him from the meal rather than lost track of time.
"I think we can solve both of those problems if you're interested in joining me?" Charlotte held a hand out to him and waited to see if he would accept. He sighed with relief and cracked a tiny smile before taking hold of her fingers. "I have to stop by my room for a moment," she said to him, "but then we can go to the kitchens for breakfast. Let's find a guard to leave a message with first though. I would hate for your adar to worry when he finds you absent."
Legolas ran to his room to grab his hairbrush and ties and scribble a quick note to Thranduil and then insisted on giving it specifically to Dínenor once they'd exited the royal wing. "Ferion loses everything," Legolas whispered once they'd reached her chamber door. "If it's important, don't give it to him. He's a great swordsman though. At least, that's what Adar says." Legolas shrugged.
"Maethor and Haedirn have rooms across the hall," Charlotte said. "We should probably wake them, and then you can stay with one of them while I get changed."
"Is there something wrong with your dress?"
Charlotte grimaced. "I just feel like blue would be a better breakfast color."
"Oh, Charlotte, you're such a silly elf," he laughed, but then horror stole over his expression. "We haven't taught you to curtsey! Oh, no!"
"Little leaf, there's plenty of time for that," she said, "but first we need to wake Maethor and Haedirn."
They each took a door and knocked. And knocked again. And again.
"Maybe they went to breakfast?" Legolas suggested, hopefully. The poor elfling was probably starving.
"Okay," She paced for a moment. She couldn't leave him unattended. "You'll just have to wait in my room for now." She hoped there wasn't anything improper about that. She ushered the elfling inside, grabbed a clean gown, and disappeared into the small ensuite.
She had been surprised but thrilled by the existence of rudimentary plumbing in the mountain. There was no shower, but the tub could be filled and drained, and though the temperature varied by the day, it was always at least warm. She nearly cried upon spotting the flushable quasi-toilet. Such things hadn't been available since she'd arrived in Middle Earth, surprisingly not even in the guest wing of Imladris, which preferred a more communal bathhouse. She eyed the bathtub longingly but knew there was no time. She'd have to be satisfied with the quick rinse she'd gotten before her date with Thranduil.
When she stepped out in her clean gown, Legolas was staring out the window. "I've missed the forest," he said. "Adar says he's adding windows to our wing, but they weren't completed before we had to move. I can't wait to be able to see the stars again. It feels cold and lonely at night without them."
Another side effect of her curse. She frowned. She needed to fix this. Not just for Legolas, of course, but for all of them. "Let's try Maethor and Haedirn once last time, and then we'll nip downstairs for some breakfast and hair assistance."
Banging on her guards' doors proved fruitless, and Charlotte chewed her lip as she debated her options. "They must already be in the office with your adar," she said. They would not be pleased if she wandered the caverns alone, but Legolas needed breakfast. So did she, for that matter. She wouldn't be healing anyone if she attempted to use the necklace on an empty stomach.
If she snuck through the secret passage behind the tapestry, she'd cut the journey in half. With the matter settled, she hurried Legolas to the tapestry of the ellon fighting a dragon and plunged into the awaiting darkness.
Her progress was slow. The last time she'd used this passageway, the lanterns had been lit. This time, she was forced to grip the wall with her left hand and shuffle her feet, using her toes to find the edge of each step in the dark. Her palms grew clammy against the stone the further they descended. She'd been in crushing blackness like this before, once, when a booming voice had echoed through her bones. A chilled finger ran down her spine. Was that a thud behind her? Why hadn't she brought a lamp? A torch? Anything?
"Are you okay, Charlotte?" Legolas asked after they were halfway down.
Her lungs were clenched, squeezing every pocket of air from the tubes within. "I can't see very well," she told Legolas. In truth, she couldn't see at all. Were those footsteps she heard? She took a panicked step forward, missed the stair, and her leg slid out from under her. Hands seized her arms and jostled her backward, and she thumped hard onto the stair behind her.
"Sorry, Charlotte," Legolas said, his small hands patting her arm. "I thought it might be better to fall back instead of tumbling down the stairs."
"Thanks, Legolas," she breathed. "I agree. Much less painful." Though she thought it quite likely she'd find a bruise or two later.
"Can you not see at all?" He asked. "That's odd. Elves can't see in the dark, but I can see the light pouring in from the bottom of the stairs."
Was that a light far below? Or just a spot in her vision? "I can't see it," Charlotte said sadly.
Legolas was quiet for a moment, and she wished she could see his expression. Finally, he said, "I can help you. Just hold the wall there, and I'll hold your arm and tell you when to step."
It took some practice, but soon, they were hobbling down the steps together under Legolas's guidance. "That's it, step, and step. You are doing well, Charlotte," he said. Having him there in the darkness with her chased away the memory of limbo, but she was still relieved when she stepped into the brightness of the open cavern that housed the throne.
"Remind me to never do that again without a lantern," she said.
"Or without me," Legolas grinned.
"Of course, my fierce protector. You'll make an excellent gwaethann one day."
"I don't think I'd want to be a gwaethann," Legolas said as he escorted her through the throne room and into the entrance hall. "They have to go everywhere their bonded goes. What if they never go anywhere at all? Then I'd be stuck here forever. I like the Greenwood, but I want to see all of Middle Earth!"
"I can understand that. I always wanted to travel. It just wasn't in the cards in my old life." Now it truly was her old life. She glanced down at the ring adorning her finger. There would be no returning to Virginia. There was a lingering twinge of pain, like a forgotten injury, and her mother's hazy image swam to the forefront of her mind. She shook her head. "Where would you go first?" She asked. The soft murmur of voices echoed from within the great hall, and her stomach grumbled at the thought of breakfast.
"Home. To Lindon."
That brought her up short.
"I want to find Naneth someday. I need to know… I just need to talk to her."
She wasn't prone to cursing, but right now, she felt like she could roll through the full list twice, and it wouldn't be enough. Shit. Shit. Shit. "Legolas, sweetheart…"
His smile was forced when he looked up at her. Someone had to tell him, but that someone wasn't her. Not alone, without Thranduil, in the entrance hall where anyone could come upon them. She'd warn Thranduil and let him decide from there. "I think I would want to see Lórinand," she said instead. "Amroth mentioned these beautiful golden flowers that fill the forest. I think I'd like to see them one day."
"Hmph. Amroth?" Legolas grumped. He frowned and moved toward the great hall as if he were fleeing the conversation. "Eryn Galen has special flowers too."
"Oh?" She'd seen many plants since entering the Greenwood, but nothing as vibrant as Amorth's description of the rivers of Elanor.
"Well, we did," Legolas said, his mood souring further. He made a beeline for the kitchen. "They're very rare. Naneth said there hasn't been one seen in the Greenwood since 1698 in the Second Age."
Charlotte suddenly noticed how quiet the hall had grown. When she glanced up, her eyes met a score of angry elves. Even as she stared, some stood, as if debating whether or not she was a danger to them or the prince at her side. And then the whispers started. "Rhudoleth. Rhudoleth. Rhudoleth." She stepped away slowly, her heart picking up as the ellon nearest to her followed each step. A dagger hung from his belt, and she panicked as he thumbed the handle.
She doubted they would actually harm her. Not with so many witnesses and Thranduil's public efforts to ensure her safety. Still, the room was undoubtedly hostile, and they might take her lack of guards as a lack of royal favor.
"Quickly now, Legolas," she murmured, hurrying him into the stairwell that descended into the kitchen. It was blessedly well lit, and she hiked her skirts up as they raced into the safety of Idhrenes's kitchen.
"What's the meaning of this then?" Idhrenes said when she spotted them. "There's no running in my kitchen. You'll crack your heads like eggs should you slip in here, and that's if you don't end up in the fireplace instead. You," she pointed at Charlotte with a hand dusted in flour, "where are your shadows?"
"In a meeting, I think." She was really regretting coming down without them. Unless they found her soon, she'd be spending the rest of the day in the kitchen, and so would Legolas. She was not risking his safety to an angry crowd, prince or not. "Would it be possible to have breakfast here this morning?"
Idhrenes's narrowed her eyes as she considered them, taking in Charlotte's pale face and Legolas's wild hair. "You can eat on the spare workstation," she agreed and turned to fetch them food.
Charlotte settled Legolas on the bench and said, "Let's see what we can do with your hair." She took the brush from him and slowly worked it through the long golden strands, picking apart the knots with her fingers and smoothing the easier tangles with the brush. That part was soothing and simple, taking the edge off her brief encounter with the disgruntled elves.
The real challenge was braiding.
Of course, she knew simple braids, but Charlotte was at a loss as far as weaving the twin braids he typically wore along his temples. Her fingers separated a few strands at the side of his head. How hard could it be?
She twisted and turned and pulled and tucked until Legolas's hair was a hot mess that required brushing again. Legolas didn't utter a word, though every now and again, she saw his shoulders twitch if she pulled too hard. On her second attempt, her fingers ended tangled in his hair, and she'd accidentally combined two sections together. Charlotte huffed in frustration just as Idhrenes set two plates burdened with eggs, sausage, roasted potatoes, mushrooms, and charred tomatoes.
"What are you doing to that poor elfling's hair?" Idhrenes asked.
"What?" Legolas popped his head up, worried.
"Attempting to braid it, obviously," Charlotte muttered. "Please, send help. I'm afraid Legolas and I are both hopeless at it today."
"Scooch over then," Idhrenes sighed, though it was gentle. "I'll teach you." The cook picked up the brush, smoothed out the newest tangles, and said, "Eat your breakfast, young prince. We'll take care of your hair."
Legolas didn't need to be told twice. He dove in with gusto, and Charlotte felt a smidge envious that she wasn't enjoying her breakfast beside him.
"Now," Idhrenes said, looping her nimble fingers through the hair at Legolas's scalp, "you don't want to grab too much at once. Just pull from the front here, and we'll add in strands as we go. I'll show you how to do it on this side, and you take the other side. Yes, like that— no, a little further forward. There you are."
Charlotte clutched the section of hair and watched like a hawk as Idhrenes twisted and teased each new section of hair into the braid, the elleth's fingers working slowly but surely. Charlotte tried to follow along and was fairly successful. Her braid was a bit too loose in the end though, so Idhrenes made her undo it and start from scratch. Twice.
As she worked, Idhrenes took the opportunity to grill her. "You ran into my kitchen as if a hoard of orcs chased you."
Charlotte did not want to tell her about her less-than-warm reception in the great hall. Instead, she focused on trying to pull the next section of hair into the braid. Legolas, on the other hand, piped in with, "The others were calling her Rhudoleth again."
"Again?" Idhrenes flashed her eyes to Charlotte.
"It's fine, really," Charlotte tried, though it felt anything but fine. "I am an outsider. Lothuial warned me that the Greenwood is very distrustful of outsiders."
Idhrenes made an angry dismissive sound low in her throat. She held the strands of Legolas's braid in her fingers as she searched the kitchen, eyes darting about until she barked, "Sídher!"
At the table in the far back, a petite elleth slicing root vegetables froze. Despite her boss's tone, the elleth delicately placed her knife and wiped her fingers on a towel before reporting. All elves were graceful, but Sídher appeared to float as she covered the space between her station and Idhrenes. Her wispy blonde hair was escaping from the braided crown atop her head, and her eyes were soft and dreamy. They made Charlotte think of the enchanted elves as they stared at her light. She shivered, dropping a strand of Legolas's hair, which she hurried to grab before it merged with the loose sections.
"Yes, my lady?" Sídher's voice was quiet and gentle, blending with the clanging of pans and the steady thunking of knives that filled the kitchen.
"None of that now," Idhrenes said. "Tell me: how do the others treat Lady Charlotte?"
Charlotte had never seen this elleth before, so she was surprised when Sídher said, "Oh, quite terrible. It's not really their fault entirely."
"And why is that?"
"Well, because the whisperers, of course," Sídher said dreamily. "Like little spiders, they've been crawling about, spinning their tales of Annuiel."
"And what of these tales?" Idhrenes's eyes narrowed.
"She is a witch, an enchantress of Sauron. They say she will bring death to the Greenwood, but the elves are confused by her kindness. The whisperers say she has bewitched the king." The elleth blinked her owl-like eyes and turned to Charlotte. "I do not believe them. His soul reaches for yours, and though you are frightened, you are brave enough to accept him, to accept us all. The others will learn in time, and they will be filled with sorrow and regret at their actions. Don't worry, my lady," she bowed her head shortly and turned her gaze on the cook. "Your champion will pull you into the light."
"Dismissed," Idhrenes said, though she seemed distracted. "Thank you, Sídher."
Charlotte watched the elleth glide back to her station, feeling as if her fate had just been announced and the world had held its breath to hear it. She belatedly realized she'd completely dropped Legolas's braid.
"Try again," Idhrenes said. The cook quickly finished her own braid, her deft hands working Legolas's hair so fast Charlotte could not keep up.
The fourth time around, Idhrenes watched from over Charlotte's shoulder, biting her lip as she worked through her thoughts and pausing to nudge her pupil along. "Now pull that one tighter. There you have it," she said. "No, smaller sections. That will make his braid uneven. Much better."
Honestly, it was a relaxing lesson, and Legolas seemed to think so too. When she snuck a glance at him, he was happily munching his eggs with his eyes closed.
"Excellent work, Charlotte," Idhrenes said once Charlotte had finished the braid for the fourth time. "Now for the circlet."
Charlotte was settling the silver circlet on Legolas's head when she heard the shouting. At first, it was indistinguishable, but then the whole of the kitchen could hear them clearly.
"You swore you would notify us upon her return to her chambers. You still should have sent word," a cold voice echoed down the stairwell along with thundering footsteps. She recognized Maethor's voice though she had never heard him so angry.
"Caution, Maethor," Thranduil hissed. She could just picture the fire in his gaze, his back straight and proud. "I have tolerated your insubordination without discipline because I was under the impression that you had completed your bonds. And yet, I have found that she remains unaware of your intentions entirely."
The footsteps stalled.
"We did not wish to sway her mind," Haedirn said. She still couldn't actually see them, though their voices carried well enough that they could have been right in front of her. "Our people have been less than welcoming, though they believe themselves to have reason. Maethor and I were concerned that she would choose to stay in Middle Earth if she were to discover the consequences of the bond, and then we realized what a completely horrible idea it would be to keep her in the dark about such matters. We've yet to discover a way to approach her with it that will not have her nature rejecting it outright."
The kitchen staff had frozen, all eyes flickering between her and the stairs. She felt her face flame. Only Sídher seemed unphased by the argument on the stairs, as if it were a common occurrence, and she continued to gently hum while her knife rocked through the root vegetables in delicate slices.
Idhrenes broke the spell for everyone. "Which of you is planning to explain to His Majesty that dinner wasn't served on time because you all had your ears on his conversation?"
The dam broke. The kitchen elves scurried to their duties, and the ellyn were suddenly silent in the stairwell.
"You should reveal yourselves," Idhrenes said, beckoning the three of them from the darkness as if they were small elflings. "She's heard most of it already. Sit here with the prince, and I'll serve you a warm breakfast."
It was an odd sight, watching her proud Elvenking meekly obey the elleth. His chastised expression faded when he spotted her hovering the circlet over Legolas's head. She settled it quickly and dropped into her space beside the elfling, leaving Thranduil to sit on Legolas's other side.
"You're late, Adar," Legolas frowned. "Has something happened?"
Thranduil darted a glance to her, and she shook her head.
"A company of orcs attacked a settlement of Northmen and attempted to overtake one of our northern guard posts," Thranduil said gently.
Legolas's face fell. "Is everyone well?" he asked. His fork drooped in his hand, breakfast forgotten.
Thranduil studied him intently before saying, "I do not yet know. The messenger arrived early this morning to request aid. What would you do in my place?"
Legolas must have been used to such questions. He gently settled his fork beside his plate, and waves emerged across his forehead as he thought. The elves seated around him remained silent while he worked it over in his mind. His toes tapped beneath the table. Maethor slid a dagger from his belt and cloth from one of his pockets and set to polishing his blade. Haedirn was eyeing the young prince's food, so Charlotte nudged her tomatoes toward him as she finished her eggs.
"Let's take this one piece at a time," Thranduil said gently. "How far away is the northern outpost?"
"For one elf in the canopy?" Legolas scrunched his brows. "Almost two days? Wait, no…"
"You are correct, ion nín," Thranduil nodded approvingly, and Legolas puffed up with pride. "The orcs attacked two nights ago, hours before dawn. The messenger ran south shortly after the attack began."
"Then the attack is likely already over? Why did they not use the ravens?"
"That is a good question. The ravens were shot from the sky by orc archers. But you have also missed a step, Legolas," Thranduil said. "What were the numbers?"
"Oh, of course! How many were stationed at the northern outpost? And how many orcs were there?"
"The messenger estimated over one hundred orcs. There were fifteen elves stationed at the outpost, plus the Northmen."
"But there were women and children to protect too, right, Adar? The Northmen do not train them to fight as we do, so they would be defenseless."
Thranduil nodded sadly, but Legolas was still thinking it through. "I would send scouts north to assess the results of the battle," he said finally. "They will move more quickly than a company. The company can follow. We would need enough elves to defeat the orcs if they overtook the northern outpost. If our outpost has already eliminated the threat, there may still be injuries and… casualties. A company would allow the guards to change, with some of the company staying behind while the others returned home."
"Excellent, little leaf." Thranduil smiled, though it was weighted by the topic. "The scouts have already departed, and the company followed them at dawn. We should have news in four days, though I hope a messenger arrives sooner. Now, finish your breakfast. Maethor and Haedirn will join you." He raised a brow at the two guards as if daring them to question him again. "Charlotte? A moment, please?"
Charlotte pushed her empty plate aside and stood, taking Thranduil's arm when he offered it. "And where are you taking me?"
He winked at her and aimed for the far stairwell, the one she had seen Galion stumble out of so often. The first flight burrowed deep through the rock, doors nestled in the stone on each side, but Thranduil didn't stop long enough for her to ask about them. Once they reached the stone landing, the rest of the stairs were open to a cavern.
Thranduil's wine cellar was longer than it was wide, with barrels stacked and nestled neatly up the walls and a large rack of barrels in the room's center. She was surprised to find hardwood floors since the rest of the caverns had retained their natural stone as flooring. There was a short wooden table at the far end of the chamber, and then, oddly, the rest of the room was empty, save for a lever. The iron pole seemed randomly placed, as if it grew from the wood and chased everything else away.
"Thranduil, isn't it a bit early for drinking?" Charlotte asked. Why did he bring her down here?
"Depends on what you are drinking," he said huskily, turning her and pinning her to the wall of barrels. She grinned at his mischievous expression, admiring the way his silver eyes glittered at her. "This section is my personal collection, and yet I find there is no wine in this cellar to rival the intoxication I drink from your lips."
She chuckled just as he descended, his lips meeting hers and chasing away every thought. His hands bunched in the fabric at her waist, tugging her skirts up as they slid under her so he could lift her against him. She was burning, her own hands diving through his golden hair. Gods, she loved his hair. And his mouth. He was positively wicked. His tongue traced her lower lip, coaxing her until he gained entrance, and his hips held her to the wall so his hands could slide the length of her body. She wondered how it would feel to have him pressed against her with their souls entwined.
She froze.
Thranduil pulled back, brushing her hair away gently with a look of confusion. "Are you well? Have I upset you?"
"That depends."
He cocked his head. "On what?"
"Did you intentionally plan for us to eat dinner first last night so I would be too tired and forget about searching the forest with you?"
Thranduil's eyes closed as if pained, and he slowly settled her on her feet. "I will not lie; I had hoped dinner would distract you."
She gaped at him. "But you agreed!"
"I certainly did not." He crossed his arms. His crown sat crookedly atop his head, and his hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed. "I simply acknowledged that you would not be swayed from your course."
"And yet you manipulated me off course anyway."
"Manipulated?" He drew back.
"Is there another word for organizing our evening to attain what you desired in place of my wishes?"
"You were being reckless!"
"I cannot get hurt traveling the forest!" She stomped. He was so damn frustrating sometimes. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to force down the rage swelling inside her. "You and I have traveled the forest before without issue. Why do you suspect this time will be different?"
"That was before you nearly died!"
"One tete-a-tete with a death deity, and suddenly no one trusts you to do a little soul walking."
"Do not joke, meleth nín," he said. His fingers grazed her cheek. "My grief would be without end should anything befall you."
She placed her hand atop his and sighed. "You think I don't feel the same about you? But Thranduil, this is safe, and you would be with me. I won't live in a cage. Not anymore. I've been my own prisoner long enough; I will never play prisoner to another again."
Thranduil dropped his head to hers and sighed. "I know. I know. Please, can you forgive me my fear?"
"I can," she whispered, "if you forgive me for not being more sensitive to your concerns."
He smiled softly at her, though it was self-deprecating. "With all the ways we have to speak with each other, we are lackluster at it."
"I think that's okay sometimes," she said. Her hand cradled his against her cheek, and she leaned into him. "Our different points of view can help us build something stronger. We'll get better at listening, at trying to listen."
"Allow me to rectify my mistake then. I can have Idhrenes prepare lunch, and we can take Legolas into the forest too. I still have my vow to fulfill, and I cannot bear waiting another moment to tell him."
"Speaking of talking to Legolas…" She bit her lip and tried to think of how best to approach the topic of Nemir.
"Should I be concerned?"
Charlotte stepped away from him, though she kept hold of his hand. "Legolas and I were talking, and he mentioned that, when he was able to travel, he wished to go to the Havens."
Thranduil's expression fell, and his body went rigid as the blood drained from his face. "He wishes to sail?"
"No!" Her heart plummeted. "He wishes to visit. He's hoping to see his Naneth."
If possible, Thranduil paled further. "I have not told him. He does not know." He pulled away, pacing the length of the wall. "He was already so hurt that she left him, and that was when he thought she was only in Lindon. The anguish of her sailing… Charlotte, it will feel to him as if she has died. What am I to tell him?"
She wished she knew. She'd never had to break such news to a child before, though she'd delivered emotional bombs to adults. Her mother regularly broke into a semi-lucid state or grew confused enough that she required an explanation of her health conditions. Each time Charlotte had to do it, she felt herself grow a little bit smaller within her body until she was certain she'd been tucked away in a tiny box in her own mind.
But this was different. Legolas was perfectly in control of his mental faculties, as much as any young child is in possession of his mind. Legolas would carry this pain in some capacity for the remainder of his extremely long life.
"It is a huge decision, Thranduil." She settled her hand against his spine, and he stilled. "It doesn't have to be decided today. I'm not suggesting we wait forever, but we do have some time, and you don't have to do it alone. I'll be right there with you if you wish it."
Her hand drifted as he expelled the breath he'd been holding. "I worry what this will do to him."
"We'll help him through it," Charlotte whispered. "We'll just remind him every day that we love him and that he's worthy of love. It's all we can do."
Thranduil turned, pulling her against his chest so he could settle his chin on top of her head. "It is soothing to hear you say 'we.'"
"Well, I'm not leaving you to face the gallows on your own." Her ears were so much more sensitive, and she savored the loud thump-thump of his heart beneath her cheek. If only she could spend the whole day here, pressed against him.
"You seemed reluctant to discuss our betrothal contract," he said, and though she couldn't see his face, she could hear the sadness in his voice. "I had worried you were already regretting your acceptance."
Charlotte yanked back. "Of course not! Thranduil…"
"I know that you miss your past. Your mother… it is clear in your stories of her that she was an enormous part of your life. Then there are the more modern conveniences I am sure you are likely missing. Like those flashlights you mentioned."
She shook her head and smiled softly. He was so much like Legolas, and this was no different. "Thranduil, I chose this life, I chose you, and I don't regret it at all. You are worth loving too."
His body shook, and he blinked frantically against the moisture gathering. A single tear escaped, driving a crystalline path down his cheek. She leaned up to press her lips to it before gently pecking his mouth. "I love you."
"Gi melin," he said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "As much as I wish to continue ravishing you, Legolas will be looking for us, and we need to leave soon if we are to head into the forest."
"I have only two requests." She studied his wild hair and lopsided crown, admiring the thorough job she'd done.
"And what would you have of me?"
"That you will allow me to straighten your abused hair while you help with my own."
"Easily granted," he grinned, "and the other?"
"I wish to go south."
His grin faltered. "How far south?"
"Probably not as far as you fear." She reached up and pulled the branching crown from his head, setting it aside so that she could finger-comb his hair. "Just to the head of the Tithenduin."
"Absolutely n—"
She raised a brow, and her hands stilled atop his head. He heaved a breath and said, begrudgingly, "Why do you wish to see the Tithenduin?"
"I've cursed it. It would be good to attempt to work the necklace where I have a better connection to the forest. That's how you kept me stable last time, right? With the connection between you and the forest, maybe we can gently experiment."
"This means this much to you?"
She nodded.
"I am concerned about your safety, though I suppose this must be done. If your fëa begins to weaken, promise me you will rest and return to the cavern?"
"Deal."
Translations:
Gi melin: I love you.
AN: I'm so thankful for your kind words! From hearing how parts of the story connect to your own experiences and how you are enjoying Thranduil/Legolas/Charlotte/etc to the helpful critical feedback, it's absolutely breathtaking to read. Thank you for being on this journey with me and these characters. I'm honored.