Cúthon's cloak muffled her scream as she fell. The drop was mercifully brief, and her body plunged into icy water, quickly soaking through her gown and the gag. High above her head, the trap door closed with a rolling of gears and a thud like a tomb sealing. She thrust her legs, fighting to stay afloat as the current swept her up, tossing her along the path it had cut beneath the mountain.
The gag forced her mouth open, and water invaded the crevices until she was choking on it. She kicked her feet, trying to keep her head up, but couldn't tell where the surface was.
Her wrists desperately writhed in the rope. Her heart was pounding, and thick sobs tried to escape her throat. Everything she'd suffered, everything she'd survived, and this was her fate? Her lungs burned, her eyes drifted, and she feebly kicked out.
She slammed into something solid.
Or maybe, that something slammed into her. It wrapped around her, thrusting her upwards, and her head finally broke the surface. Her cries came out strangled as she was dragged along the current until her body collided softly with the rocky wall, and then quick, firm hands ripped the gag off of her head and freed her mouth while a familiar voice filled her ears. "You're safe. I promise. You're safe."
"Maethor!" She sobbed, and her shoulders collapsed in relief. "You're alright!"
Maethor had to tighten his grip on her and the wall, so they both didn't get swept away.
There was a soft splash from within the cavern, and she squinted against the darkness until she could spot Haedirn working his way along the stone, his concerned eyes studying her. As soon as he reached her, his hands immediately set to untying her wrists. Water dripped down his nose, and his dark hair was slicked back, but he was alert and focused. "Did he hurt you?"
The ropes slid free, and Charlotte rubbed her hands against the painful tingling sensation as blood rushed back into her fingertips. She shook her head.
Haedirn breathed a sigh of relief. "Can you swim? The gate is too short for a raft to get through."
She was still clinging to Maethor's tunic. "I just need someone to untie my legs. I don't think I can do it and stay afloat."
"Son of a—" Haedirn cursed. "He would've killed you for sure if we weren't here."
"I rather imagine that was the goal."
Maethor held her up while Haedirn dove beneath the surface to work the knots, and she felt him tugging at the ropes and running his hands around the layers. He popped his head up, huffed out a quick "do not move," took a deep breath, and descended again. Her ropes shifted, and something in her skirt tore, and then Haedirn was pulling the ropes off so her legs were free and she could swim on her own.
"Thank you," she said as he surfaced.
"I hope you were not fond of that dress," he said. "I doubt it can be repaired now."
"We need to move." Maethor tugged her along the stone. "We've lost too much time already. The sun will rise soon, and we need to be gone from here by then."
Exhausted as she was, she tried to keep up. The long skirts stuck to her legs and wound between them, her hair tangled in her arms, but the current propelled her onward until it became only a matter of keeping her head surfaced. The river emerged from the cave and immediately dropped into a small waterfall before it rushed against a tiny portcullis beneath a stone bridge.
"Dive under it," Maethor warned her as they approached.
There was a single guard atop the bridge, mere feet from a lever that likely controlled the portcullis, and though he spotted them, he didn't reach for it or even raise the alarm.
"Later," Haedirn whispered and nudged her through the short gap. She grabbed the iron bars, letting her legs swing into the current while she waited for Maethor and Haedirn to swim through, and then she fell in behind them. The elf on the bridge faded as the river swept them east through the forest.
"How much farther?" Charlotte eyed the branches hanging over the water. There was a thundering sound in the distance, and she could see the smooth grey boulders jutting from the water like great teeth.
"Aim for the rocks on the far bank," Haedirn said, and he led the way, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.
Charlotte followed limply along behind him, having neither eaten nor rested in far too long. Maethor stayed by her side until Haedirn could pull her from the water. She flopped against the stones, her chest heaving.
"What now?" Charlotte asked, shivering in the frigid pre-dawn air. "How are you even here?"
Maethor let out a soft whistle and then said, "Now we ride west as fast as we can. The time for answers must wait."
Galloping reached her ears, and she looked downriver in time to see a massive set of antlers barreling toward her. "Berior!" She cried. The elk nearly knocked her flat, thrusting his face into the crook of her neck until his wet nose sneezed at the water dripping from her hair. "Not up for a morning swim then, huh?" She joked, dropping her frozen nose to his furry face. "Warmth," she sighed.
"Perhaps this will help?" A thick cloak settled around her shoulders, and Charlotte turned to Meluieth with a grin.
"How did you do it?"
Meluieth winked. "I wasn't alone."
It was then that Charlotte noticed the others gathered around her. Idhrenes stood just behind her, a worried frown marring her face, and behind her, Ellavorn waited, his arms clutching—
"Legolas!" Charlotte flew to him, her hand drifting to her mouth as she studied his glazed eyes. "Has he..." She couldn't bring herself to ask.
Idhrenes knew though. The elleth gently squeezed her arm and said, "He woke in the night. Meluieth has been keeping him sedated, but you know it's unpredictable how long it will last."
"Which brings me," Meluieth said proudly, "to this." Her hand dove into her pocket, and out came two proud silver elk antlers clutching a vibrant stone.
"How?" Charlotte asked.
"Eithoril," Meluieth shrugged. "She told me to tell you her 'debt is paid.' At first, I thought it a trick, but we've had her watched, and she's not uttered a word."
"I can't believe it," Charlotte whispered. Idhrenes took the necklace from Meluieth and lifted it over Charlotte's head so she could fasten it in the back. The metal settled against her skin like a sigh, a homecoming, and it instantly lit up.
Hands dove for her.
"No!"
"Wait!"
"Not here!"
She could hardly tell who was saying what. "Why? I can spare Legolas the pain of waking."
Maethor rubbed her arm soothingly, "I know you want to, but your light can be seen from the caverns, and Elros will be relieved of his post soon. The next guard will report to Cúthon. It's not safe yet. We need to get out of the forest."
"But that could take days!"
"At least until we're further west," he tried.
Meleuith joined in, "I think I'm closer to finding a cure, but for now, he's had his sedative, and I've prepared enough that you should hopefully get through the forest without him waking. I didn't have time to make more, and I used so much of my stock on Maethor and Haedirn."
It seemed she didn't have a choice. If she tried to heal Legolas, she'd essentially be a beacon leading Cúthon to all of them.
"Up on the elk now," Idhrenes ordered. "Meluieth, back to your post. You'll be the first one they notice missing."
"But," Charlotte worried, "won't Cúthon blame you for Haedirn and Maethor's absence?"
Meluieth shrugged, but her expression wasn't as convincing. "Even healers have to sleep. I wasn't awake when they left, and I'm going to hide in my chambers and delay reporting their absence for as long as I can."
"Be safe, mellon nîn," Charlotte said, gathering her friend into a hug. Meluieth smiled softly and nodded before she climbed up the nearest tree and took off through the branches.
Charlotte really had to learn how to do that.
Idhrenes helped her climb onto Berior, and then Charlotte was surprised to find Ellavorn lifting Legolas into her arms.
"Maethor and Haedirn will get you both to safety," Ellavorn said. "We will summon you home once Thranduil returns and deals with Cúthon."
"But what if he doesn't?" Charlotte asked. Her heart spasmed just hearing the words aloud.
Ellavorn passed her a dagger with an ornate handle, and the ruby glinted in the grey dawn. Amroth's dagger. "If he should not return," Ellavorn said, "then you must take the prince to Imladris. You should be safe there for now. I'll send word to Lord Elrond if you must flee further to the Havens."
"Wouldn't Amroth be closer?" Charlotte asked as Ellavorn climbed atop his own horse.
"Too close," Ellavorn argued. "Your friendship with King Amroth is well known, and Cúthon will expect you to flee there. It would be easy for him to orchestrate your removal, especially since you have the prince."
"But it's almost a month's travel to Imladris, and it's even more dangerous because it's winter." Legolas would be a month without a healer's care and unable to express his needs. She had no idea how Meluieth was managing their nutritional needs. Did they need to eat, frozen as they were?
"If you're lucky," Ellavorn said, "and it comes to that, Lord Elrond will already be on his way here, and you won't have to travel the whole distance by yourself. Thranduil invited him prior to the threat in the north and sent an additional missive requesting aid before he marched."
He nudged his horse forward, and they fell in beside him. "Cúthon will be waiting for your body to show up between here and the lake, but when he realizes Maethor and Haedirn have vanished with the prince and your elk, he'll panic. You might have a day's lead before he figures it out, and Meluieth will try to buy you more time. Loyal wardens have organized safe passage for you, but the opportunity is small. Run far and fast, Anniuel. I promise you, I will find Thranduil and bring him home to end this. I need to go now, as do you."
He tensed his thighs, and Charlotte watched him vanish into the trees, galloping northwest, no doubt to the river crossing so he could journey north. She prayed he found Thranduil safe and whole.
"Pull your hood up," Haedirn said as their horses and Berior stepped under the trees. He and Maethor had already covered their faces with their hoods. "I'm not taking any chances, and your elk will gather attention already."
"I thought the wardens were on our side?" She asked as she pulled the hood up until it hid her face from view. It was thankfully much larger than the one she had owned and blessedly warmer. She pulled Legolas against her, settling his ear against her heart and tucking him inside the thick fabric to ensure he was well hidden. The last thing they needed was her cloak to fly out behind her, revealing her soaked gown and the unconscious prince.
"Precautions," Haedirn said. "I want to trust all of them, but I won't risk your safety or the prince's. From a distance, you and Berior should blend with the forest."
A shrill bird song pierced the air, and Maethor nodded to himself. "Everyone is in place," he said. "It is three days of hard riding, but we must be through the forest as soon as possible. Cúthon aside, there are still spiders roaming the forest. It is not safe for anyone right now."
"Then let's fly," Charlotte said. She peeked over her shoulder to the jagged mountain spiking above the trees and prayed that she would be able to return soon with a healthy Legolas in tow.
-O-
They rode as fast and far as they dared, resting only to protect the horses and Berior. Legolas had to be sedated every few hours, as she couldn't even risk allowing her fëa to shine and relax him.
By the second night, Charlotte collapsed against Berior's side with a quiet groan that she was positive the elk echoed. They'd hidden in a small grove of pines to rest and eat, safe in the knowledge that their area was currently patrolled by elves that would safeguard their presence. A fact made clear when she'd heard a trilling bird above her head and glanced up in time to catch a fragrant white blossom.
She'd woven the flower into one of Legolas's braids, hoping the bloom might bring him the same feeling of safety and peace he'd described in Thranduil's office. It would have been better to have two, but she'd searched his pockets and come up empty-handed. His flower was probably still in his room in the caverns.
One was better than none though. Especially since he had gone through the sedative quicker than they were expecting, having required a spontaneous dose just after they crossed the Tithenduin. They had a single dosage left for the evening. If they were fortunate, they would clear the border and run south to Beorn before she had to use the necklace.
She glanced down at the elfling laying limply at her side, and ran her fingers through the loose hair at his temple. "Hang in there," she whispered. "I'll do what I can as soon as it's safe for us." A lone tear worked its way free, and Berior nudged her hard.
Charlotte shoved the grief and worry into her rebuilt mental cage, and for safe measure, tried to pull up her rage at Cúthon. The glow faded from her necklace, and she ran a grateful hand down Berior's withers. "Thank you," she said.
It was a constant problem. Her mind would wander to the elfling in her arms, the stone would ignite, and one of her companions would have to remind her to shut it down. She'd taken to counting to ten thousand as she rode but eventually, that just made her more tired and fed the ache in her skull. It would've been easier to take it off, but they had decided it was best she wore it in case they ran into trouble.
And trouble was likely. As they rode, it had been hard to ignore the thick white strands stretched between the trees. Shredded webs hung limply from the branches above the Elf Path, ghosts emerging from the darkness, their swishing tails flicking in the wind. She'd panicked the first time one had brushed her shoulder, dragging along her cheek, the sticky strands like leeches. She'd ripped and clawed them off until Haedirn came forward to help her. Unlike her, Maethor and Haedirn could see relatively well in the darkness.
She couldn't truly tell the difference between her mortal vision and her supposedly improved Elven eyesight, and she'd realized squinting into the darkness only worsened the headaches she'd been suffering since her imprisonment. They were a complete nuisance. She had tried on the first night to reach Thranduil through the forest song and had subsequently vomited her meager meal and lay shaking in the dirt with her head clutched between her fingers. She knew better than to try again and leave Maethor and Haedirn to drag two unconscious bodies through the forest.
"Here." A cloth sack appeared in front of her, held up by Maethor. He had his own already in hand as well. "There's still some seeds and a bit of bread and cheese. Berior ate the last apple though."
The elk glared at him.
Idhrenes had packed what she could, but sneaking days' worth of food for three elves was hard with Cúthon watching her. Still, she'd managed enough to see them out of the forest, and from there, they only had to reach Beorn's and beg for his hospitality.
They couldn't hunt in the forest since they couldn't risk the fire, and most of the edible berries had ended their seasons. Berior and the horses weren't pleased with their offerings either after a steady diet of oats and the occasional apple, but all-in-all they managed.
"We shouldn't rest here long," Haedirn warned. "Our absence has likely been noticed, and if Cúthon hasn't figured out you survived, he will soon. He would've had the wardens search for your body along the river. When that fails, he is insane enough to reassign the few wardens left and send them to hunt for you along the borders."
"We'll need to reach the plains before then," Maethor agreed.
Charlotte sighed through her nose, a sound of guilt and shame fleeing her body, and stood on wobbling legs to pack her small meal in Maethor's saddlebag. "Are you ready, Berior?" She asked the elk.
His chin lifted as if to say, "Of course, I'm much stronger than all of you."
"Very well then." She scooped Legolas into her arms and climbed onto Berior's back, gripping tightly with her thighs once she'd settled them. The elk rose jerkily, his limbs briefly askew before he leveled out. Maethor and Haedirn were already astride their horses, and Berior fell into his accustomed position between them. It was a ragged and worn group that trooped from the grove, their green-grey cloaks hiding them in the darkness of the forest. They had scarcely a few hours before dawn, and Charlotte couldn't wait to have the vast marshy plains stretched out before her.
A real bird trilled above her, short and sharp, and she heard the faint flutter of wings as it swept from the branches. The trees cackled, the barren limbs thwacking together in the soft breeze. It amazed her how tall and wide they were, and once more, she wished she had learned to climb them, to run along their weathered arms, as wild and ancient as the song she heard in her soul.
Maybe if— when Thranduil and her reunited in Eryn Galen, she would drag him to one of those enormous trees and persuade him to teach her. Her mind flashed back to that moment in the forest, with his hands wandering, lighting her aflame as he pressed her into the bark. In one bittersweet moment, she allowed herself to fantasize about taking that memory into the canopy where she could kiss the sunlight dappling his skin, run her fingers through his sun-kissed hair.
"When," she promised herself and hoped she hadn't made a promise she'd break.
Legolas shifted in her arms as if her thoughts had been loud enough to disturb him, and a trench appeared across his brow. His eyes, glassy in sleep, were already shifting, not with lucidity so much as alertness. The trees bent closer, and she glanced over her shoulder to the east, fighting the shiver of being watched. Still, she nudged Berior closer to Maethor and said, "Legolas is waking again."
Maethor searched the sky, for what she wasn't sure, but then he said, "He's early again." His lips pinched, the firm set of his jaw showing his discomfort with using the last dose so soon.
Haedirn turned his head to examine Legolas wrapped in her cloak and fished out the vial. The elfling arched his back in her grip, and Charlotte's eyes widened in panic as he opened his mouth and screamed.
Her ear was ringing, and her brain rattled around in her skull. His mouth was so close to her ear, and he just kept screaming. Haedirn fumbled with the vial, leaning between them to reach Legolas's lips, and as the clear liquid poured from the glass, trickling over the rounded rim and past the elfling's lips, Legolas screeched and flung his arm out. "Naneth!"
The vial turned, flipping over Haedirn's hand, until it spilled down Berior's coat, the empty glass dropping to the soggy leaves carpeting the forest.
Haedirn's wide eyes met hers over the thrashing elf. "Run!"
Berior needed no command. His long legs ate the distance, racing the Elf Path as Legolas sobbed and thrashed in her arms.
"Naneth, please. Come back! Do not leave me!"
Her arms were a vice around him, fighting to keep him on Berior's back. She swore she felt her heart shredding in her chest. Legolas had been through so much. Why him? Why did this sweet innocent elf have to suffer? He had done nothing! He was always so brave, constantly thrust into the plots and wars of others, endlessly used by the people around him as a means to harm his adar. And yet, he was still filled with kindness and courage. Hot tears burned down her cheeks. She was so angry, so heartbroken, that he was suffering because of the greed and viciousness of others.
"Charlotte, no!" Maethor cried.
But it was too late for her to stop it. Her skin lit, her fëa bursting from her pores of its own accord, nearly as bright as the stone burning against her heart.
Legolas was in agony in her arms. Her sweet little leaf, his face soaked with tears, screaming into the trees. "Naneth, I'm sorry. Please. Naneth!" The air whipped in and out of his lungs, the harshness grating against his raw throat.
A heavy crack rent the air, and a thick branch clacked as it hit its siblings, landing in front of Berior. He didn't hesitate, thrusting himself over it while Charlotte clutched tightly against him, with Legolas pinched between their bodies.
The first spider to drop from the canopy almost landed on top of her, but Berior swerved, and it rolled so close to them she felt its furry legs caress her skin. Legolas, immune to the chaos around him, reached his small hands to touch her face. "The stars. So beautiful, but sad," he said. "Do not cry."
Charlotte gently tucked his hand back inside her cloak and whispered, "Not yet, little leaf." She flung her eyes behind her, watching the spider's long legs flailing in the air as it tried to roll itself over. The leaves crinkled and hushed as it settled on its belly. Glossy fangs clicked above the void of its mouth, and its multitude of dark eyes reflected her light. She tried to bury her fëa, but with the fresh memory of Legolas's agony and the fear coursing through her, she couldn't focus long enough to even dim it. She was a beacon for the beasts, and she had Legolas.
The spider clicked impatiently, toeing the gap between the shadows and her blinding light. She doubted it would be enough to keep them at bay.
"Maethor," she called. He rode just behind her, his bow aimed over his shoulder, arrow poised. He glanced at her for a split second before firing one of his elegantly fletched arrows, burying it deep within one of the many bulbous spider eyes. Its screech was piercing, and it careened painfully into the trunk of a massive beech.
"You have to take Legolas," she said. "You have to protect him."
"Absolutely not." Maethor fired another arrow. It slammed home, blinding a second eye. "There's bound to be more, and you will not leave my side."
She could hardly toss Legolas across the distance. She eyed the space between them. No. Berior's hooves thundered beneath her, his great antlers swaying as he threw his head. "We're staying with them," he seemed to say.
But then something heavy dropped on top of them, sending Charlotte and Legolas flying off the elk's back and rolling through the dirt. Berior skidded sidewise off the Elf Path, his hooves thrusting and kicking at a second massive spider. The fangs descended, only to be met with a swift thrust of Berior's antlers. The screech echoed through the trees.
She had managed to maintain her grip on Legolas and protectively curled over his body as Maethor and Haedirn circled her. Her dagger was slick in her palms. The first spider, twin arrows protruding from its face, stumbled toward them. She heard Berior bugle in pain. Her head flung up to find him in the chaos, and then the air was filled with a bone-shaking roar.
An enormous black bear, easily three times her height, thundered through the trees, barreling into the spider atop Berior. Enchanted or not, she crushed her hands to Legolas's ears and blocked his view as the bear ripped the spider's legs from its body, sharp teeth tearing chunks of its flesh away even as it shredded the bulbous body with its massive claws.
Blood drenching its fur, the bear left the carcass and smashed into the other spider. Charlotte had been so consumed with the wet gushing and cracking as the bear had dismantled the spider that she hadn't noticed Maethor and Haedirn leaping into the trees to attack the first spider. Between the two ellyn and the bear, the spider was quickly spread across the Elf Path in a gory puzzle.
She held Legolas tighter as the bear lumbered over, terrified for a moment that they'd be next, but as she caught its wide intelligent eyes, she froze. Its tongue lolled out, and it dropped to its haunches.
She tried to ignore the blood-soaked mouth as she tackled it.
"Charlotte," Haedirn cried, dropping from the canopy with his arrow nocked and aimed at the bear. "What are you— you're hugging the bear?" He glanced, confused, at Maethor. "Are you seeing this? A bear. An actual bear." He lowered his bow. "First an elk, now a bear."
Charlotte snorted into the bear's fur and stepped back, smirking at Haedirn. "Not a bear…" The air shimmered, heat radiating as if a small sun had burst into existence beside her, and she knew without turning that a towering man stood behind her. "A Beorn." She grinned.
Haedirn's jaw dropped with his bow.
Beorn blessedly had maintained his leggings during the shift, though his long torso was bare, save for his dark hair rolling over his shoulders and the thick beard that covered his jaw down to his collarbones. "A little bird said you needed assistance," he said, and she had no doubt he meant that literally.
"Thanks to you," Maethor said solemnly, "we seem to have all survived the encounter with few injuries."
Charlotte nodded and looked around for Berior. Her guards were safely before her, Maethor already scooping the dazed Legolas into his arms, and the horses were restless but waiting for their riders. Berior was missing.
"Berior?" She called. The forest was silent. "Berior?" Her feet left the Elf Path, searching through the dim light of the moon for the elk.
At first, she mistook his wide antlers for fallen branches in the darkness, but then she heard his soft groan, and she rushed through the undergrowth, her torn skirt catching brambles and thorns. "Berior!" She sobbed when she reached him, dropping to her knees beside him.
His coat, already thin and patchy, was soaked. Copper invaded her nose, and she could taste his blood in her throat as she gasped. "No," she shook her head violently. "No." It came out vicious, a growl worthy of a bear.
Not him. Not Berior. Her very first friend and champion in Middle Earth. Her support from the beginning. Her furry friend. Her hands fluttered over the gashes that stretched along his side. Even sick, with his thin fur, he'd carried her and Legolas, fought off spiders to save them. "No!"
"Charlotte," Maethor dropped a soothing hand on her shoulder.
Her nose flared, and she pinched her lips tightly against the heat in her eyes. Her heart was burning. "You're not allowed to die," she cried, and somehow she knew. Guided as if possessed, she pressed her hands to his bloody fur, digging deep into her fëa.
Haedirn cursed and dove for her as if to stop her, but the light flashed out with a small crack, bursting through the trees as it had the day she'd cured Thranduil.
Her skin dimmed, but her mind, for once, was clear. Maethor and Haedirn's fëar slammed into her, and she felt their surprise at finding her soul still stable, though slightly dimmed.
But she only had eyes for Berior, who glowed brightly as if she'd injected him with her light. A sob escaped her mouth as his chest heaved a sigh, and then it collapsed, shrinking, the fur withdrawing from his body. His antlers remained, proud and strong, but they shifted as his head diminished. Like loose teeth, they wobbled and then dropped, shedding from his body until they settled wholly intact in the leaves, replaced by a long sheet of shimmering silver hair.
"Sweet Elbereth," Haedirn said.
"Nana?" A little voice groaned.
She spun her head to find Legolas rubbing his weary eyes in Maethor's arms. "Little leaf!"
But then there was another groan behind her, and she was stunned to find, where Berior had lain, there was an ellon face down in the dirt, draped in flowing grey robes and tangled in Berior's reins. She clapped a hand over her mouth when he lifted his head to face her, his grey eyes and sharp jawline screaming at her in a near replica of Thranduil.
His nose was wider, his face just a bit shorter and softer, whereas Thranduil possessed sharper, elegant cheekbones.
The leaves shifted behind her, and her mouth dropped to see Haedirn and Maethor, even Legolas, kneeling in the dirt, their fists resting over their hearts and their heads tilted down.
"Welcome home," Maethor intoned, his voice solemn, "King Oropher."
AN: The long-awaited moment at last! Thoughts? Also, if you have a favorite character, can I ask: who is it and why? Much love to all of you! Thank you for reading and for your lovely comments!