Thranduil had yet to return. Charlotte paced the length of his tent all night, waiting for him to sweep in as if he'd never left. Legolas slept on unknowingly, and Charlotte hoped his adar would return before he woke. Thranduil had told her before that he didn't like being separated from his elfling, so when morning broke, and there was still no sign of him or the contingent of elves he'd taken with him, Charlotte panicked.

She'd tried many times during the night to slip into the forest song, but she could never push past her own fëa as she'd done with Thranduil. By the time Legolas woke, she had worked herself into a storm and had to mask it so Legolas wouldn't worry too.

"Charlotte?" He rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Where is Adar?"

Ellavorn thankfully stepped in, "Your adar had to search the forest. He'll return to us when he is able."

The elfling frowned, his brows knotted in the same way his adar's did, and he reached to pat her arm. "It will be alright," he told her. "Adar is the greatest swordsman in all of Arda. Nothing can hurt him."

"Legolas," she asked, "are you alright?"

The elfling froze, and suddenly he was avoiding her eyes. "I'm fine." He smiled at her. His dimples were absent. "I can help you with your Sindarin to distract you?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" She pressed.

"I know what we can do! I can translate your name."

Charlotte frowned but let it drop. "What does your name mean?"

Now his dimples popped proudly into place. "I have two names. Every elfling gets a name from his Adar and Naneth. Naneth named me Legolas; it means 'green leaf.' Adar named me Thranduilion, which is 'son of Thranduil.' Which means I'm the son of a 'vigorous spring.' What about yours?"

Charlotte had to think about it. She vaguely remembered looking it up for a school assignment once. In all reality, her mother had just thought the name was pretty, and she'd never used her middle name, though her father had apparently searched for weeks for the perfect name and didn't decide until after she'd been born.

"Definitely Eileen," he'd said to her mother. "Our bright light." Other than that one story her mother had shared, Charlotte only ever heard it when she was in trouble, to the point where it didn't even feel like hers.

"Charlotte means 'free,' I think," she finally said to Legolas.

"In Sindarin, the word for 'free' is 'rain," Legolas scrunched his brow in thought. "Your Naneth would probably have named you 'Renieth.' It means 'free one.' What about your adar name?"

She told him about her middle name, and he nodded, his tiny face serious. "That sounds like another naneth name," he said. "Normally adar names are made from your naneth or adar's name. Like mine is made from my adar's."

"I don't think I know my adar well enough to have an adar name," Charlotte said.

"Did you live without your adar too?"

Charlotte saw the hopeful look in his eyes, and remembered Thranduil telling her that growing up without Legolas had been painful; it was evident that Legolas had felt that same pain. "I did," Charlotte said. "My adar died when I was a baby. He was very sick and couldn't stay."

Legolas studied his feet. "Did you miss him?"

"My naneth didn't talk about him much, and then she got sick." Charlotte felt her throat tighten. "I don't think I ever stopped to ask her about him. It was always just the three of us, and I didn't question it until it was too late."

"Naneth says you don't need an adar to be a loved elf."

"That's true," she nodded. "But you have an adar who loves you. A lot."

Legolas was quiet for so long she thought he wouldn't speak again, and then he whispered, "Do you really think so?"

Her heart broke for him. She glanced quickly at Ellavorn, whose face held a matching expression of sorrow. "Of course!" She said. "It would be impossible not to love you."

"Is Adar in danger?"

Charlotte's mouth dropped. Telling him the truth would terrify him, but she didn't want to lie to him either. Especially when she was worried about Thranduil too. She was silent for too long, and Legolas's face fell.

"I thought so." He picked at his tunic, before looking up at her through his lashes. "When will he be back?"

She reached over to smooth his hair and gazed out the open tent flap. "I don't know, little leaf. Hopefully, soon."

But the morning wore on with no sign of him, and Charlotte started feeling itchy. She was pacing around the support beam of Thranduil's tent, rolling her shoulders against the crawling sensation up her spine when she finally turned to Ellavorn and asked, "How many guards stayed behind last night?"

Ellavorn hesitated. "Only five," he said. "Six, including myself. The horses and packs were left with us, too, as the king expected to return by sunrise."

"We need to move. The closer we get to Emyn Duir, the better. Thranduil will be able to find us if we move, right? Because as of right now, we're here with a quarter of our guards, like sitting ducks. You know how easily three vanished. Will six guards be enough? With four elleth and an elfing to guard? Not to mention," she quickly added the numbers, "over twenty horses to keep safe, not including our own."

"The king left no orders to move," Ellavorn said, but she could tell he was considering it.

"Did he leave orders to stay?"

"That he did not," Ellavorn grinned. "I agree with your assessment. I'll order the camp to be packed. The king wished to be on the other side of the river before we rested anyway. The horses can be led, and most are trained to return home if they're separated."

Charlotte thought of the massive void of darkness she had found as she flew through the forest song with Thranduil. If the monster stole away the three elves on the southern border and managed to snag another one despite the increased patrol, they were not safe until they reached the mountains. "See if you can divide the remaining supplies among the free horses; we'll need to travel fast, and prepare the elves to travel part of the night. If this creature slips past the border patrols somehow, we at least need a more defensible position. We're too open here."

Ellavorn bowed, his mouth a firm line. "As you command, Annuiel."

She froze. Had she just given orders? And Ellavorn followed them? She wasn't sure she liked that power, and Lothuial definitely didn't. The blond elleth stormed into the tent, not five minutes later, with an apologetic Ellavorn behind her.

"Where is Thranduil?" Lothuial demanded, and then softening when she saw Legolas, she bowed and said, "Good morning, Prince Legolas."

"Good morning, Lady Lothuial," he said. "My adar, Elvenking Thranduil, is patrolling the forest, but I can help you."

Lothuial chuckled, the sound condescending. "That is sweet of you, Prince, but I needed to speak with your adar."

"As Legolas has already shared," Charlotte said, crossing her arms, "Thranduil is not presently available."

"Well then, who issued the order for us to travel through the forest with reduced guards?"

"I did."

The elleth smirked, "You have no authority to issue such an order. With the king absent, and the prince under the age of maturity, I am the highest-ranked elf present. I will give the orders until the king returns, and we will stay here under guard."

"If we stay here, we'll be easily overtaken," Charlotte argued. She knew little enough about warfare, but she at least understood that there were too few of them to guard such a large area and their resources.

"You have no say here," Lothuial sniffed. "I am the daughter of the king's advisor and supersede a common stray elleth. In fact, you have no place here. Not among my people and not in the king's tent."

"Charlotte is not a 'common elleth,'" Legolas argued. His cheeks grew pink, and Charlotte had never seen him so angry. He was the spitting image of his adar at that moment. "You speak to Annuiel, the Western Star, sent by the Valar themselves, and she has been invited to the Greenwood by the Elvenking. She is both a welcomed dignitary and a representative of the Valar, and as such, she outranks you."

"My adar—"

"Your adar holds rank as my adar's advisor," Legolas said firmly. Suddenly a prince stood where an elfling had been only moments before. "You hold no position within my adar's counsel."

"The prince is correct," Ellavorn said, and Charlotte could tell that he was barely holding back his glee at the fuming Lothuial.

"I will not obey an outsider's commands," Lothuial hissed. "You have no power over me, and I will not be rushed into danger by your hand."

Charlotte stood tall, taking strength from little Legolas's defense of her. "Stay if you wish, but you will stand alone. I will not sacrifice these people to your pride and foolishness. We leave in ten minutes. Make your choice, and hope you can live with it."

Lothuial snarled and spun on her heel. "Enjoy your time here, Rhudoleth. Once we reach Emyn Duir, Adar will see you so diminished, you will be fortunate if the mortals will take you in."

Charlotte glared at the elleth's retreating back, long after she was out of sight, until she heard Ellavorn burst into laughter, and Legolas giggled.

"Thranduil will be displeased," Ellavorn said, and Charlotte began to worry. She'd definitely burned an already shaky bridge with Lothuial.

"Will it create problems for him?" She twisted her hands nervously.

"Oh certainly," Ellavorn chuckled, "but that's not what I referred to. He'll be upset he missed you putting her in her place. He's been waiting for you to do it for days."

"Wait, he knew?"

"Thranduil is aware of everything that happens amongst his people. But he's especially aware of what happens to you." He winked at Legolas. "Plus, there was a very grumpy elfling as we traversed the High Pass, who was most displeased about the 'rudeness of some elleth' toward his new friend."

Charlotte kneeled before Legolas and gently grasped his hands, "Thank you, my fearless defender. I am honored to be considered your friend."

"Adar is your friend too," he said and then whispered, "I see him watch you all the time. He won't let them send you away, and if he does, I'll go with you."

She smoothed his hair, "I doubt that will be a problem. Let's get moving."

Lothuial did her best to delay them, but the elves, likely hearing the argument and its outcome with their sensitive ears, adhered to Charlotte's orders, and the packs were evenly distributed among the more temperate horses.

Charlotte and Berior stood proudly at the front with Belegroch riderless at their side. Behind her were Ellavorn and Legolas, and visibly reluctant Lothuial and Eithoril were mixed in the middle of the horses. Meluieth had volunteered to guide some of the rear horses, and the other five guards were scattered throughout.

Charlotte patted Berior and said a quick prayer to whoever was listening, before surging the party onward as fast as they dared.

There was no ability for conversation as they thundered down the elf path, and Charlotte wasn't able to focus long enough to access her fëa, let alone feel the forest. Ellavorn had told her that most of the guards had been pulled from the eastern and western borders to move south, meaning most of the road's checkpoints were unmanned. They were flying blind, racing against an unknown adversary while protecting the horses from exhaustion.

At the first rest, Charlotte checked the sun peeking high overhead and anxiously asked Ellavorn, "How far to the river?"

"At this pace, I believe we will reach the Tithenduin by nightfall."

"We'll need to find somewhere to rest for the night. Any suggestions?"

He shook his head. "Nothing that comes to mind. The river has high banks, and the trees sit close together on each side. Once we're over it, there are boulders and rock formations. We might be able to hide among them."

They plowed on, stopping only to rest the horses for short breaks, and by nightfall, they all felt grumpy and anxious. Every crack and hoot caused her to tense. The trees reached out with gnarled hands as if to seize her. Legolas had pulled his horse closer, and Ellavorn held his sword loosely in hand.

When they reached the bridge, the moon sat high overhead and illuminated the clear water flowing south toward the mountains. The bridge was only wide enough for a single horse, so Charlotte and Berior led the way across, his hooves clacking on the stone. The carvings in walls on each side reminded her of Imladris. Intricate curves and knots pervaded the design, but there was a sharpness to it where the carvings tapered.

Legolas came across after her, followed by Ellavorn and the first round of riderless horses. Charlotte felt herself itching to move again, anxious from sitting in the open space between the trees. As Lothuial crossed, there was a great crack! And Charlotte's heart froze as a branch on the other side snapped and hurtled toward the elves. An enormous black spider emerged from the depths, two man-sizes pincers clicking under bulbous eyes the size of dinner plates.

The horses panicked, all fleeing for the narrow bridge. In horror, she watched the spider slam a stinger, twice the size of her body, into one of the mares. It tumbled, face frozen in a permanent scream. She turned to Ellavorn and shouted, "Get Legolas away from here!"

He hesitated for only a moment before leaping to the back of Legolas's horse and fleeing. She could hear the elfling screaming for her as they flew south. Lothuial and Eithoril cleared the bridge and thundered after them, but Meluieth was trapped behind the raging horses on the other side. The five guards had flung themselves into the trees, leaping from branch to branch, trying to get at the spider while avoiding the stinger and pincers. It was oddly uninterested in them and tried to work its way around to cross the river.

She was the only one on the other bank. A memory surfaced through the fog of her mind, fuzzy around the edges, but the words were clear. The orc who'd taken her, dragged her from Thranduil toward the Anduin, said there was a reward. Could these creatures come from the same master?

One of the guards tried to slip around the spider's blind spot. The creature spun, stinger poised, and slammed the point into his body. The elf toppled through the branches until he thudded on the ground and lay still. The gap widened, the spider lurched, one long hairy leg stretched across the river, and she knew.

"Okay, Charlotte," her body was shaking. Adrenaline coursed through her. "You can do this. Focus." She settled herself, felt her muscles relax, the quaking intensified. Berior was shifting beneath her. She tried to sink, to drop into the underneath space that felt like home. The sounds of the battle filled her ears: grunts, and screams, and the whoosh of air as blades swung for the escaping spider. Her body tensed. She wouldn't be able to do it, wouldn't be able to get to that place without Thranduil's help.

A second elf fell, his body pierced by the stinger. The spider cleared the final three elves, barreling over the river toward her. If she stayed, they would all be claimed by it.

"Be brave, Berior," she said, clenching her reins over Legolas's wobbly stars, "and fly."

Together they soared through the forest, the elk melding seamlessly with the trees, dodging and weaving the trunks and boulders that burst from the terrain like jagged teeth waiting to snap closed. Crunching and thundering behind, the spider hurled its body through the treetops after them.

"That's it, big guy." She leaned forward, eyes centered between Berior's broad antlers. The elk's ears flattened, and he dove to the right, barreling between two huge boulders covered in ivy just as the spider tumbled over the spot where they'd been.

"Berior? What are you doing?" He'd led them into a dead-end, where rocky ledges created a funnel ending in a high walled bowl. The elk lurched to a stop, dropping his haunches until she fell off his bare back, and then he was running, throwing his body onto a ledge high above and scaling the wall, leaving her alone in the bowl.

The spider squeezed through the gap, its body molding to the contours of the rocks as it tunneled, legs extending outward and pulling it through. Layers of rocks stacked horizontally and stretched like bands around the bowl. Charlotte tried to scramble up the walls. Tried to reach the ledge. She placed her foot, shoved herself up, grabbed the protruding rock overhead, and pulled. The rock let loose. She tried again. Made it three feet up before she was sliding, scraping her hands and face. There was no other way out.

A clicking sound caused her to whirl, and she backed against the wall as the spider crawled toward her. It's long hairy legs scuttled, it's pincers snapped, and she saw the thick stinger descending. The spider's pupils dilated. There was a loud clack!

Berior stood backward, high above, at the lip of the bowl. His hind legs reared up, bending, and slammed at the boulders arching over the edge. Tiny pebbles raced down the side with each kick. He turned, scraping and digging at the dirt around the stone with his hooves and antlers. He'd never get it down in time, and the spider was advancing past him.

Those eyes glittered at her, and her own widened. "Sink. Relax," she breathed. The spider scuttled closer, confident that it had cornered its prize. She fought to ease her muscles, to let herself descend. Her shoulders tightened, she peeked her eyes open, saw the flash of the dangling stinger.

She couldn't do it without Thranduil. She hadn't practiced enough yet.

Thranduil. She felt the memory of him fill her mind. The soft smile she'd grow to admire. His strength, the small displays of sarcasm and humor, the fierce loyalty to his people. The memory of the golden glow of his fëa illuminated her thoughts. And then she remembered how it wrapped around hers, and the warmth and feeling of home that she found in her own shining fëa. His words echoed in her mind. "Loosen everything, and then imagine yourself sinking deep beneath your skin."

She could do this. She sank slowly into her light, feeling the brightness of it overwhelm her. She grasped her fëa tightly, pulled her light to the surface, and opened her eyes. Her glow illuminated the bowl, bursting from beneath her skin, as brilliant as a star.

The spider's eyes constricted. It stumbled blindly, tumbling backward until it struck the wall, legs flailing and curling. The screeching pounded in her ears. She heard the loudest crack yet, and the boulder gave way, hurtling down the wall until it landed with a wet crunch on the agitated spider. The legs spasmed underneath before they seized and curled. Dead.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and she sank, panting. "If one more thing," she muttered, tilting her head back and letting her eyes close, "tries to kill me…"

Berior was suddenly in front of her, his wide eyes taking in the scratches on her cheeks and forehead. His cold nose pressed against her hairline.

"I'm alright," she said. "Thanks to you again. Are you okay?"

The elk nodded, stomping his legs until she stood. Her light still glowed beneath her skin, though it had dimmed, and she could easily see the spider carcass across the bowl. "Let's get out of here," she said and threw herself onto Berior's back. She kept her eyes on the body until it was out of sight.

When they made it back to the bridge, the elves and horses were gone. Berior was exhausted, and the adrenaline was fading from her body. "We need to settle somewhere for the night," she told him. She was dreading camping overnight with no supplies. She didn't even have the small pack she carried; it had fallen off during the rush through the forest.

Berior turned south, following the river, and she was content to let him lead them toward the mountains until he veered off course again. "Emyn Duir is that way," she said, pointing along the river.

The elk ignored her and continued moving east through the woods until they reached another rock face. Vines and lichen mixed with tree roots, reinforcing the steep layers of stone. He trotted straight for the rocks. They were going to smack headfirst into the side. She threw her arms over her head, ducked against his neck, and felt the vines slither over her.

"What?" Charlotte looked up. The glow from her fëa filled a small cavern about the size of her apartment, with a ceiling only a foot or two above Berior's antlers, and blessedly empty. "I don't want to know how you found this," she said as she slid off his back. "Sleep. Must sleep. Tomorrow or today— I don't even know what time it is— we'll try to find the others after we rest. There was only one spider, and they headed south toward the mountains. They have to be safe."

Berior seemed to agree; he settled with his back to the wall, and she snuggled against him as she had so long ago in the stables of Imladris. They were instantly asleep.

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Translations:

Rhudoleth— Unwelcome One (feminine)

Tithenduin— Little River. (This is not canon. I created the name for the Enchanted River since this is 2,832 years before the events of The Hobbit.) Since its parent river is simply called the Forest River, it made sense to keep this river's name equally basic. I haven't found a Sindarin equivalent of Forest River, so the best guess would be either: Torduin (Taur + duin) or Erynduin (Eryn + Duin). Both meaning "Forest River" and both aesthetically displeasing.

AN: So this is actually the chapter that puts this story above 60k words. I forgot to take into account the few author's notes/translations in the previous chapters, but this chapter was already written then so I guess it still stands. :) Regardless: yay! Hope you enjoy this new chapter. Thank you for the comments/follows/favorites. I love hearing your thoughts!