It was the perfect night to celebrate the stars. Charlotte stood in an antechamber off the great hall, waiting for Thranduil to arrive. Behind the double doors, she could already hear the faint stirring of music and the lilting chatter of the elves.
In the few days since she'd woken in the healing hall, her life had become a whirlwind of activity. In between visiting the families of the elves killed in battle and meeting the previously enchanted elves, Charlotte had taken on the duty of overseeing the preparations for Mereth Nuin Giliath. Approving the final menu, orchestral selections, location, decor, and all the other minutia involved in the feast grated on her when she spent the remainder of her time soothing the families who had lost loved ones or apologizing to the elves affected by her enchantment.
"I am surprised that Thranduil decided to hold the feast after everything that happened," Charlotte had said to Idhrenes one evening. Idhrenes had requested Charlotte's input on the dessert menu, having wanted to offer at least one dish from Charlotte's previous life.
"Hope is a powerful thing," Idhrenes said, rolling out a pie crust on her floured workstation. "As is celebration. The king's decision to host the feast is a symbol of both, an acknowledgment of what we have survived and who we have lost, and a step forward into a peaceful future."
Charlotte could understand that, the desire to have something good, even if only for a moment. And she had been grateful to Idhrenes for providing a sanctuary for her in her kitchen, where Charlotte didn't have to be anyone's future queen, just an elleth with a dear friend, experimenting with Middle Earth ingredients and modern recipes. Which mainly revolved around attempting to sweeten things without ruining the familiar texture. Unsurprisingly, sugarcane was not a common plant anywhere in Middle Earth, let alone the forest of Eryn Galen.
Aside from her knowledge regarding plant life in Middle Earth, Idhrenes had been instrumental in the days leading up to the feast and had taken it upon herself to begin Charlotte's instruction for her future role.
The Elvenqueen. The only Elvenqueen currently in Middle Earth.
If she could ever get more than a moment alone with Thranduil, she might have some vague idea of when they would be getting bonded. A question Celebrían had taken to asking daily.
She would already be bonded if not for a certain Captain of the Guard. Charlotte was still grumpy that Ellavorn had stolen her betrothed from her after Thranduil had shown her Fû Nan Gilith, the path of white blossoms leading from the Tithenduin to the caverns.
She wasn't truly mad at him, so much as mourning the lost opportunity to be with Thranduil after being apart for so long. If Ellavorn hadn't intercepted them, she wouldn't have known what Oropher was doing, and she wouldn't have been able to help him.
Still, their respective responsibilities, Thranduil's role as the Elvenking and her fledging training, had meant that their luck had continued in much the same way in the days leading up to the feast. At night, he'd return long after she'd fallen asleep, and the two times she managed to stay awake, she couldn't bear to keep him from rest after seeing the exhaustion that bent his shoulders.
And now it was moments before the royal family was due to be announced, and neither Thranduil nor Oropher had appeared.
"If you keep tugging on that," Maethor said gently, "it's going to fall out." He stepped from his post along the wall and gave her a look that said he knew precisely how her heart was hammering behind her ribs. Her stomach twisted painfully, but then Maethor's fëa shot down the tether between them, and she welcomed the feeling of his soul easing the anxiety in hers, taking the edge off enough that her hands stopped shaking and the urge to vomit vanished.
"I'm still getting used to it," she said softly, and then her fingers were twisting the silver circlet, shifting it atop her hair until she'd messed it up so badly the metal slid and settled at an angle, cutting across her right eyebrow.
A low chuckle sounded behind her, and Oropher stepped into her view, his eyes twinkling at her. He'd been another ellon she'd had difficulties pinning down in the days following the battle. At best, aside from their visits with the elves, she'd only seen him for an afternoon, one solitary afternoon where he'd helped her acquire something. She ran her hand over the newly added pockets to her gown, felt the object hidden within, and breathed a sigh of relief. She still couldn't believe she'd gotten it, likely wouldn't have been able to without Oropher's assistance, without him taking time away from his many duties to help her.
Oropher had unsurprisingly declined the possibility of returning to his previous role as Elvenking. He'd gracefully stepped into position as an advisor, though Ellavorn remained Thranduil's second-in-command.
When Charlotte had asked, Oropher said he had no desire to return to a leadership position unless it was absolutely required of him, and Charlotte didn't push him, knowing the grief and guilt he still battled, remembering the two days he locked himself away after his long-overdue discussion with Amroth.
No one knew what was said during that meeting, but the guards posted outside the royal wing informed both her and Thranduil that Amroth had been shouting by the end of it and had stormed from the hall, blowing the doors open so hard they slammed against the stone.
"May I assist you?" Oropher asked, his eyes taking in the sideways circlet.
Legolas darted from behind his ederedair and dove for Charlotte's legs. "Nana!" He squeezed her so tightly she swore she felt it in her heart. She dropped on her heels so she could meet him eye-to-eye.
"Why, Legolas, aren't you handsome!"
Her elfling beamed at her and stepped back with his arms held wide to show off his dark green tunic and silver leggings. Matching silver thread embroidered climbing vines and smooth leaves around the cuffs and collar, and his delicate circlet, composed of three slim metal bands curling over each other, balanced perfectly atop his braided blond hair.
She knew the moment he spotted hers. His head tilted, and his tiny brows furrowed, the expression so much like his adar that she almost laughed.
"Nana?" he said, placing one delicate hand on her arm as if to soften the blow of his next words. "It's alright if Ederedair has to help with your circlet. He helped me with mine. We're both learning, so it's okay if we can't do it by ourselves yet."
Charlotte did chuckle then. "Too true, little leaf."
"Does this mean you would like my assistance?" Oropher asked with an indulgent smile.
"Please."
He held out his hand for her to take and brought her to her feet. Long fingers deftly untangled her curls from the twining vines and leaves, and then he was placing it once more in her hair, ensuring the petite white gemstone dangled in the center of her brows. "Stunning," he said when he'd finished. "Now, Thranduil had a few things to take care of before he arrived, but he should be here any moment."
"He is here now," a voice said breathlessly, and Charlotte turned to find Thranduil sweeping into the antechamber, his charcoal robes swirling behind him. His boots scuffed the floor as his eyes swept over Charlotte in her silver gown. It was yet another borrowed ensemble from Celebrían, who had apparently brought with her a wardrobe to rival even Thranduil's.
Thranduil stepped forward, lifting her hand to his lips before he pulled her against his chest. She settled her palms over his heart and savored the rushing thud beneath her fingertips.
"You look rather dashing," she said.
"Quite the compliment," he murmured, his eyes intense on hers, "coming from the very embodiment of the stars."
"Are you both ready?" Oropher interrupted, having peeked through a small crack in the door to alert the awaiting guards that the royal family had assembled.
Thranduil looked as if he were seconds away from whisking her off, but he kept his eyes glued to hers as he said, "We're ready."
The music cut off, the whispers beyond the doors dying away. She almost believed the guards outside had heard his declaration with how quickly a horn cried out.
Ellavorn had been given the honor of announcing the reigning family, and it was his voice that reached her through the doors. "The royal family of Eryn Galen," he called, and the doors swung wide. Legolas gripped his ederedair's hand tightly, though he kept his little chin high.
"His Highness, Legolas Thranduilion, Crown Prince of Eryn Galen, and His Majesty, Oropher Meinaran, King of Eryn Galen."
Legolas and Oropher swept into the chamber to thundering applause, and Charlotte tracked them as they paraded through the assembled crowd. The elves appeared genuinely thrilled to have Oropher among them once more, though she could tell by the stiffness of his shoulders that he wasn't entirely comfortable just yet.
Oropher joined Charlotte and Thranduil for many of the visits to the families of the fallen and had gone beyond that to visit the families affected by the War of the Last Alliance. The strain was wearing on him, and she worried he wasn't caring for himself. Maybe she should insist on some time with him, just to check in. And make sure he ate a good meal. And then slept. She could do that.
Idhrenes would no doubt help, as would Sídher, who had shown up in the royal wing at dawn the day after Thranduil had snuck Charlotte from the healing hall. When Charlotte asked, Sídher only smiled in that half-present way of hers and said, "I am to be your lady's maid." Haedirn and Maethor had been thrilled, considering they'd both helped train Sídher when she was a warden.
Thranduil's hand brushed against her spine, a comforting reminder of his presence, and then Ellavorn's voice rose above the clamber once more. "His Majesty, Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Silvan elves, the Elvenking of Eryn Galen, and his betrothed, Lady Charlotte Annuiel, the Elendann, Guardian of Eryn Galen.
The stars shield. The glimmering dome of starlight that had encapsulated their forest, casting out Mairon's shadows and creatures.
Her ears blanked out the roar of sound as Thranduil swept her into the awaiting throng with Maethor and Haedirn trailing behind them. Elves lined each side of the great hall, all the way through the entrance hall and to the enormous teal doors that sealed the caverns. Many still had the white blossoms pinned to their tunics and tucked into their braids, and even some of the elves from Imladris and Lórinand had adorned themselves with blooms. Like a wave, they dropped into bows, their fists clenched over their hearts, as Charlotte and Thranduil passed, and Charlotte wondered if she would ever get used to being bowed to, if she would ever adjust to the reverence in their gazes.
Thranduil led her through the corridor between the elves, stopping every now and then to squeeze the hand of one of his people or to greet someone within the crowd. Just before the teal doors, Amroth stood side-by-side with Celeborn and Galadriel. Celebrían and Elrond waited beside them, but Celebrían had dropped to her heels to speak with an energetic Legolas.
The teal doors groaned open, and Charlotte and Thranduil led their people over the bridge and into the forest, their feet ghosting over the white blossoms of Fû Nan Gilith. In the distance, she could make out the faint glow of the lanterns that circled the clearing where they'd host the feast, a clearing that needed new, happy memories.
"Ready?" Thranduil asked, and Charlotte nodded. There was one more symbol their people needed tonight.
Charlotte didn't have to think about it anymore. As quickly as Thranduil's golden fëa erupted, she dove into her own silver light and carried it to the surface of her skin.
Had anyone been traveling through the Greenwood at the time, they would have seen hundreds of elves gliding through the forest, the soft glow of their fëar bobbing between the trees, led by the sun and the stars.
— O —
Hours later, Charlotte found herself stretched across a thick, soft blanket, her bare toes tickled by the grass while she watched Legolas dance with Celebrían. She settled her head on Thranduil's shoulder with a happy sigh.
"If I could hear that sound from your lips a million times more," Thranduil whispered, "I would be satisfied."
She sighed again, just for him, and he chuckled, low and throaty against her ear.
And then Legolas flopped down beside them, his mouth arching wide on a yawn. He'd managed to stay up far later than Thranduil or Charlotte had guessed he would, and now he looked as if he would drop at any moment.
"We should get you to bed, little leaf," Charlotte said. She brushed a hand through his loose hair as his eyes drooped.
"But I'm not tired yet," Legolas tried, his words interrupted by another yawn.
Charlotte smirked and looked at Thranduil. He's as stubborn as you are.
We're a passionate line of ellyn, he said, and his heated gaze rose a blush in her cheeks.
"I believe I am ready to rest as well," Celebrían said, settling beside Legolas with an exhausted huff. "I think I have danced holes into my slippers," she joked. "Would you like to rest in our chambers this evening, Legolas? I have already spoken to your adar, and Elrond has agreed to sing you a few more lines of the lay."
"Can I, Adar?" Legolas asked, rubbing his eye until it was red-rimmed. "Please?"
"You may," Thranduil nodded. "Behave for Lady Celebrían and Lord Elrond. No adventures," he said sternly.
Legolas flopped against Thranduil with a happy grin, and Thranduil squeezed his elfling in a hug and pressed a kiss to his son's head. "Off to bed with you, ion nín."
The elfling shuffled to Charlotte for a goodnight hug, and then he was wrapped around Celebrían's torso, his blond hair trailing down her arm while he laid his head on her shoulder. Elrond appeared out of the crowd, having seen his wife holding Legolas and assuming it was time for them to call it a night.
They turned to leave just as Legolas sleepily mumbled, "Celebrían? Your fëa is funny tonight."
The couple froze, and then Celebrían's eyes closed, fluttering beneath her lids as if she were searching for something. Elrond reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, and then his entire body jerked, as if a bolt had shot from her to him.
Celebrían's eyes flew open, and they were glossy with tears. "Two," she whispered, her bright eyes finding Elrond's. "There's two."
Elrond had gone pale beside his wife, and Charlotte would have thought him made of stone had his eyes not darted down to his wife's middle, had his hand not shakily reached out to settle over the delicate one that Celebrían now pressed just above her hips.
Thranduil stood and pulled Legolas from Celebrían's arms, murmuring a soft "Congratulations."
That seemed to shake both of them free from their trance, and Celebrían said, "We can still—"
"No," Thranduil interrupted kindly. "Go and celebrate. There will be other nights, but this moment comes so rarely."
"We owe Legolas," Celebrían said, a tear finally escaping to glide over her cheek. "Had he not noticed, it might have remained a secret for far longer than I would have liked."
"I'm good a' secrets," Legolas mumbled. A little circle of drool already bloomed on Thranduil's shoulder. "I didn' tell anyone 'bou Lady Galadriel."
Thranduil's face hardened. "What about Galadriel?" he asked, his voice like stone.
But Legolas was out cold.
Charlotte had frozen on the blanket, the words still bouncing around in her head. There was only one secret Legolas had kept from them.
Celebrían must've reached the same conclusion. She clapped a hand to her mouth, and horror widened her eyes. "She would not," she said, and then rage filled her gaze, nearly enough to rival the fire in Thranduil's.
Charlotte spotted Idhrenes drifting through the crowd and called her over. "Would you mind taking Legolas up to his bed?" she asked the elleth as she shoved her feet into her boots. The cool metal of her dagger brushed against her calf.
Idhrenes took one look at the faces around her and said, "With your blessing, I'll stay with him tonight in one of the guest chambers in your wing."
"I would be most appreciative," Thranduil told her, gently passing Legolas into her care. The poor elfling was being traded from one person to the next tonight. "Please take Amdirgan and Ellavorn with you."
Once Idhrenes had found the ellyn, and the pair were walking back to the caverns, Charlotte and Thranduil dove through the crowd, searching. They found Amroth first, and his expression fell as he beheld them.
"Please tell me that look is not directed at me," he joked weakly.
"Where is Galadriel?" Thranduil bit out.
"I am here." A low feminine voice said.
Thranduil whirled on her. "You heartless, wretched creature," he hissed. "You will acquire your belongings and depart my forest at once."
"Now, Thranduil, what is the meaning of this?" Amroth tried, stepping between him and Galadriel.
Galadriel dared to raise a brow at Thranduil.
"Tell me," Thranduil stalked closer, baring his teeth. "Did you have a hand in my son's appearance at the battle? The very battle where he and my betrothed nearly died?"
"Thranduil, this is ridiculous," Amroth said. "Galadriel would not—"
"Yet you did, didn't you?"
"Naneth?" Celebrían studied Galadriel's expression, and then her shoulders sharpened, seeing the confession as only a daughter could. "Why?"
"I will not apologize," Galadriel said, and she calmly folded her hands. Her eyes darted briefly to Celebrían, lingering on the delicate hand pressed against her gown. "I saw what would happen without Legolas's presence. The Greenwood would have fallen, and with it, Middle Earth. I did what had to be done."
Charlotte felt her lungs freeze. She recognized those words. "It was you," she said. "You were the voice I heard that night." She should've known, should have at least suspected Galadriel. That elleth had shown little regard for boundaries from the moment Charlotte met her, popping in and out of Charlotte's thoughts the night "Berior" had carried her to Imladris.
Thranduil's lips thinned, "And what indiscretions have you committed against my betrothed?"
But Charlotte had focused on the lady's words. "Did you know?"
"You will have to be more specific, Lady Charlotte," Galadriel said calmly, and Charlotte was glad she'd never intentionally let this elleth into her mind. "I know many things. Such is the burden of my mirror."
Even Amroth stepped aside at the wildfire that burned in Charlotte's eyes as she stalked Galadriel. "Did you know that my son would live?" Her voice shook with rage. "Did you know he would survive?" Each word was aimed, sharp as a dagger, at the unflinching elleth.
Galadriel hesitated, and that was all the answer Charlotte needed. Her hand dove without thinking into the hidden sheath within her boot, and Galadriel stood rigidly as Charlotte's dagger, the very one gifted by this elleth's king, pressed to her throat. She could feel the shock and pleasure radiating from Thranduil. "You heard him," Charlotte snarled. "You get one hour. Get your ass out of Eryn Galen."
Amroth's eyes were wide in his bloodless face. As if he couldn't believe anything he was seeing or hearing. For a moment, his gaze darted to his goblet as if questioning how many he'd consumed.
"Do you think I fear your little dagger?" Galadriel snarked, not an ounce of concern in her face. "I have been fighting on battlefields for longer than you've been alive. Legolas is well, and the Greenwood still stands, something that would not have happened had I not sent him to you."
Visions exploded in Charlotte's mind. Scenes flickered through her thoughts, warbled by ripples, changing almost as fast as her breaths, and Charlotte saw it just as Galadriel had described: her necklace was gone from her neck, her head lolling feet from her body. Maethor and Haedirn lay dead behind her, and Thranduil… the grief in his eyes, the pain as he yelled into the stars… his sword whirled as he slashed recklessly through the horde. Flames devoured the Greenwood, leaving behind only charred husks. Endless screaming and the thundering hooves filled her mind as the Imladris elves, the ellith left behind at the border, attempted to flee the remains of the orc host.
"Get out," Charlotte hissed, shoving the elleth from her thoughts, sealing her mind from connection as Thranduil once had. Her blood turned molten, her hand moving so fast she couldn't stop it if she wanted to, and the tip of the dagger skittered over Galadriel's cheek.
"Last warning," she growled as the blood trickled down the lady's face. "Legolas's presence was not required there. Our son was nearly killed by that monster because of you." She jerked her chin at the thin, shallow line etched across Galadriel's cheek. "I hope this scars. I hope every time you see your reflection, you're reminded that you were willing to sacrifice an elfling, to see him killed at Mairon's hand, based on a hunch and some vague snippets of the future!"
Bloodlust surged through her bones. Celebrían had explained her mother's mirror before. She knew how fickle its visions could be. How easily the little details in the path of the future shifted from moment to moment. Galadriel had sent Legolas to his death based on her ever-changing crystal ball.
Charlotte palmed her dagger, contemplating giving the elleth a matching set. She'd absolutely had it with these elves mistreating Legolas. Never again. Not one more damn elf would hurt him, fail him.
The fire burned hotter as she considered something else. Had this elleth violated his mind too? Had she peddled her visions of fire and destruction, forcing them into Legolas's unwilling mind? Her hand tightened around the dagger until her knuckles ached.
Thranduil's fëa settled around her shoulders like a cloak, and Maethor and Haedirn moved into place around her. Thranduil's gaze never left the blood tracking down Galadriel's cheek, at the unapologetic tilt of her chin, as he said to Amroth, "You've heard my betrothed. I will not repeat my order. Get her out of our forest before I help Charlotte carve her into tiny pieces."
"Go, Galadriel, Celeborn," Amroth's words were cold. "We leave tonight, within the hour as the lady has demanded."
"You will not be welcome in this forest again," Thranduil told the lord and lady. He watched the couple depart with clenched fists. When they were beyond hearing, Thranduil said softly to Amroth, "This ban, of course, does not apply to you. Leave your kinslayers at home. Clearly, the Noldor have not yet learned their lesson."
"For what it is worth," Amroth said, eyeing the bloodied dagger still clutched in Charlotte's hand as if she'd turn it on him, "I am sorry. Had I known…"
It went unsaid that he would have stopped it. Amroth was many things, but he would have never allowed Legolas to be used in such a way.
"Just," Charlotte sighed, finally relaxing her shoulders, feeling her own disbelief settle into her bones, "get her out of here. Safe travels, mellon nîn."
Amroth nodded sadly, stiffening for a moment as he caught sight of something behind her, and then he was sorting through the crowd, rounding up his people and ordering them to prepare for departure. If they were confused by the order, the elves didn't show it.
A hand settled over hers, and Oropher gently pried the dagger from her fingers. She wasn't entirely sure when he had shown up, but she decided she was glad for it when he studied the blood at the tip of the blade and gazed at her with pride. "Do you have any idea how many times I've wanted to do that?" he asked.
Charlotte snorted. "She deserved far worse, and I think she knows it." Otherwise, she wouldn't have let Charlotte get a dagger to her throat in the first place.
"There's always next time." Oropher shrugged, his lips twitching.
Thranduil called a warden over and said, "I want the guard tripled for the royal wing until the Lórinand elves are beyond the border. At least two on Legolas at all times, even when he's with Charlotte and her gwaethainn. Inform Ellavorn. You'll find him already with the prince."
The guard bowed and vanished into the canopy, racing through the trees to beat Galadriel and Celeborn back to the caverns. Part of Charlotte, a vicious side she hadn't known she possessed until she landed in Middle Earth, wished that Galadriel tried to fight the order. The elleth wouldn't dare, but it would help cool the rage in Charlotte's blood to throw the wretched elleth into Thranduil's dungeon for a bit. Lothuial and her would get along swimmingly.
— O —
Once they'd received the message from Ellavorn that the Lórinand elves had departed, Thranduil and Charlotte made their final rounds through the dancing and drinking elves before slipping into the forest.
She knew Maethor and Haedirn followed, not only because they were her gwaethainn, but because she could feel them. If Thranduil asked, she could tell him exactly which direction the ellyn had gone and roughly how far away they were.
Which is how she noticed that they were much farther away than she had anticipated. If she focused hard enough, she could feel them moving around her in steadily expanding loops and yet still tracking her as she moved through the forest with Thranduil.
The gurgling Tithenduin grew louder as Charlotte and Thranduil walked over the Fû Nan Gilith, and Charlotte toed off her boots and carried them so she could feel the flowers slide across her skin.
She hadn't been this close to the water since the battle. In the days she was unconscious, the elves had removed all of the bodies, piling the orcs further downriver and burning them. They hadn't wanted to do it so close to the blossomed path that led to the caverns.
"I'd like to try to heal it," Charlotte said softly to Thranduil. His brows tangled as he looked down at her, and she clarified. "Now that I know how to use the stone, I could probably remove the enchantment on the river. It might take some practice, but—"
"Let's leave it," Thranduil said. Charlotte's mouth popped open, but he said, "It saved us. You saved us. This river provides a better defensive position, and since we know that Sauron will return, I would rather have every defense possible for our people."
He had a point. The river cut the forest in half and made it difficult for anything to sneak across that boundary without them knowing. But there were other beings in the forest aside from the dark lord hiding in the south, and the elves still required fresh water.
When she voiced her concerns, Thranduil said, "All of the elves have relocated north, and they have access to the Forest River."
"But what if they decide to return to the middle of the forest?"
"Then we can experiment with purifying the water once it's removed from the river or reconsider eliminating the enchantment," he said. "With Sauron still in the south, many will choose to maintain residences in the north."
"And the animals?"
"I doubt they are even susceptible to the enchantment," he said. "If they were, we would've found them lying around the forest already."
"That's true, I suppose."
He squeezed her fingers, tucking her arm through his, and said, "We'll monitor it, and if at any point you decide to remove it, I will honor your wish."
His steps directed them south, along the banks of the Tithenduin. Grass tickled her bare feet, and her gown hissed as it dragged behind her. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, and let Thranduil lead her through the dark, content and at peace with the hush of the river in her ears. She wondered how far the Lórinand elves had traveled.
That brought her serenity crashing down around her feet.
"I could've murdered that woman— elleth."
She could have a thousand years as an elf and would probably still slip up with the wording. Though she had a few choice alternative descriptions for Galadriel. She still couldn't believe she'd let her anger drive her to that point, to bring her to threatening an elleth with a dagger. Was this what Middle Earth had forged her into?
"Do you think I overreacted?" Charlotte asked. She watched her toes peek out from under her gown and vanish. "Part of me thinks so, but she put Legolas in danger, nearly had him killed, and for what? I just—" She exhaled sharply through her nose. "It's not something I would have done in my old life. And Galadriel is a lady, a member of the nobility. Won't this cause issues between Eryn Galen and Lórinand?"
"Amroth is fortunate we did not demand more," Thranduil huffed. "From an official standpoint, she knowingly placed the heir to the realm in danger. I could demand her imprisonment or send her to the west for her actions. But, sweet Elbereth, I beg never to have to see her again."
"What if she was right?"
And that had been the part bothering her. She remembered those frantic moments before she scooped Legolas's body into her arms during the battle. She'd been so lost, so uncertain. Would it really have been as Galadriel had seen?
Thranduil was silent long enough that Charlotte's shoulders sagged, but then he said, "I do not think we will ever know. What I am sure of is this: Galadriel is not known for her altruism. She will protect her daughter at all cost, even if another naneth must face the loss she avoids."
"You think she saw Celebrían's death?"
"I would not be surprised." Thranduil studied the Tithenduin. "Notice how she seemed aware of Celebrían's condition?"
It felt like too much of a lifeline for Charlotte, a way for her to dismiss her own violence against Galadriel. Was this what Beorn had meant so long ago when he'd said that she would eventually brush off the deaths she caused?
"I think," Thranduil said, gazing at her with understanding, "this life may be a bit wilder than the one you came from. But we choose our own path, and you do not have to lose the woman you were in order to thrive here."
"I don't think that woman would survive here."
"She already has," Thranduil said and smoothed his thumb over her hand.
"But I'm not exactly that same person. Not anymore." Charlotte watched the river gurgle over the stones as they passed, following its progress as it wound south through the forest. "And maybe that's for the best, considering what lies ahead."
A shiver raced down her spine. Mandos had warned Charlotte in that limbo between life and death. Mairon— Sauron— would return. This world would feel the grip of his power once again. The knowledge hung over her head, as much a sword above her neck as a warning. How long would this peace last? Would they survive the next encounter?
"Live for now," Thranduil sent, connecting with her whirling mind even as he led them further into the trees. "Later, when it comes, we will face it together."
She nodded, but her eyes tracked her toes parting the grass, and she tasted blood. She sucked her bottom lip. Legolas had not escaped involvement in this battle, and Mairon hadn't been vanquished. When he'd last been killed, they had gotten what? A hundred years reprieve?
Thranduil was no longer beside her, and she jerked her head up to find him standing two steps behind her. The corner of his mouth lifted, and his silver eyes glittered as he said, "Look."
Her heart thudded at the mischief in his gaze, but she turned and breath caught. She stood between two thick pines, one of many sprouting around a circular clearing. Her white flowers speckled the grass, untouched by the night's chill, and in the center of the blossoms, someone had lain out a thick pile of lush furs and plump cushions.
"You brought me to a fairy ring," she said softly. Just as he had all those weeks ago when he'd taught her how to dive deep into her soul and unveil her fëa. She did so now, summoning her light from within and letting it burst from her skin. Glowing. Vibrant. Alive. She lit the clearing, a star in the darkness.
"I thought," his voice cracked behind her, "I thought after everything that tonight we might worship the stars in private?"
Charlotte beamed, and Thranduil's eyes widened, his mouth dropping as if he'd been stunned. He closed the gap between them, each step slow and cautious, and his calloused hand cradled her cheek. The silver glow of her soul illuminated his face.
"I am in awe of you," he said softly. "I cannot believe… sometimes I wonder if I have dreamt it all. If I am still waiting to awaken and find that I lost you on that battlefield, or worse, find that you have never come at all. That I am still here, alone, without you or my son or my adar."
"Never alone," she said, extending that same vow to him. His eyes flashed with recognition, and Charlotte remembered hearing those exact words in Vairë's dreamscape. How many times had Maethor and Haedirn tried to summon her back with those words? Enough so that Thranduil recognized them. Knew their importance.
"Never again," he whispered, and then his lips were on hers, sealing their pact. It started gentle, but then Thranduil groaned, low and deep, his free hand drifting into her hair, the other sliding to the base of her spine.
Charlotte's blood roared in her ears. She traced the embroidery on his robe, skating the swirls over his chest until her fingers slid beneath the collar and pushed it from his shoulders. Thranduil pulled back, his lungs heaving, and his fingers clenched at her back.
"You are sure?" he asked, smiling down at her. "We can return to the caverns—"
She surged onto her toes, hands splayed across his chest for balance, and pressed her mouth to his. Once. Twice. Soft, innocent kisses that made her mind spin.
"Say it," he begged, "please? I want to hear the words from your lips." Until then, he would remain as he was, tense, as if restraining himself, hands curled to prevent them from exploring.
Valar, she wanted those hands on her skin.
"I want this, you," Charlotte said, eyes intent on his so that he knew. His heart thundered beneath her palm, and she was sure hers matched its frantic pace. "I want you, all of you, for this life and the next."
"Oh, thank Elbereth," he sighed, and he crashed against her like a wave, lips pressed to hers, hands sliding up her back with that beautiful silver dress clutched between his fingers.
He left her lips to pull the gown over her head, and then he was at her neck, nipping her with short teasing kisses until she arched, and he found that sensitive hollow beneath her ear. Warmth pooled in her belly, and she grabbed his tunic, dragging him into movement, pulling him toward that lush pile of furs as she shoved the fabric over his skin. A trail formed in their wake, until Thranduil cradled her as they tumbled, until the soft fur brushed against her skin, the sensation like tiny shocks along her back that caused her stomach to tighten in pleasure.
Thranduil pulled away, and she groaned. This ellon would be the death of her. But he was only shifting, pulling one of the furs over them both with a wicked grin. "Wouldn't want you to get cold," he said.
She found that impossible, cocooned as she was in his body heat. His sharp eyes studied her, taking in everything with an intensity that stole the air from her lungs, and then he was everywhere, his hands roaming as if he was worshipping every inch. Charlotte's blood pounded, her mind emptied save for his touch, and she made it her goal to drive him equally wild. She wanted him just as desperate, wanted him to unravel under her hands.
Thranduil somehow kept her flying and grounded, coaxing her eyes to his, ensuring she knew the bonding vows. His voice led her through as his body guided hers, and only the stars heard their oath.
"I call to you, my fëa to yours, vowing
from this breath until the last breath of the world
to bind myself to you.
"My sword shall cleave your shadows,
And my fëa will shield your soul.
Neither field nor mountain shall divide us
And death will bow to our bond.
In my heart will your sorrows rest
And our bond shall be your sanctuary."
Thranduil was frantic. Charlotte could feel the faefelf, her soul impulse, urging her to join her fëa to his, like surging electricity beneath her skin.
"Your name will live on my lips,
whispered to the stars.
And I will honor your soul
Beyond the reach of time."
And then they fell together, shattering apart and reforging, until his soul and hers collided, and the bridge between their fëar solidified. She knew it would burn brightly between them far beyond death, until even the light of the last star snuffed out. In every life, they would belong together.
And she was home.
Every part of her was cherished and protected by his fëa, just as hers guarded and loved his own. She could feel him, right at the end of the newest tether, where her soul merged with his. Separate and yet together. If she reached out, she could feel it, feel him, as intoxicating as the wine he hoarded.
His emotions whipped through her so fast it was dizzying. The cozy satisfaction, rich, deep adoration, bright and tangy joy. But more potent than all of them, near overwhelming, was the love that wove through each.
He rolled, taking her with him, tucking her gently into his side and pulling the tangled furs over them both. Her lungs were racing, and her leg quaked as she slid it between his knees. She wondered if he could feel the chaos of her emotions, a mirror of his own. His fingers lazily swirled over her arm, and the sight was a reminder that sent peals of laughter bubbling over her lips.
Thranduil's answering smile was soft, filled with affection, as he looked down at her. "Not quite the reaction I was hoping for, my lovely wife," he said and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.
Valar, she loved the sound of that.
"It's just..." She leaned up, taking the fur with her, and seized the crumpled silver gown he'd tossed into the grass at the foot of their makeshift bed. Thranduil tucked a hand beneath his head, though the other traced patterns on the skin of her back.
Charlotte's fingers dove into the deep pocket of her gown and withdrew the item Oropher had helped her acquire. She held the thick silver band up for Thranduil to see. "I guess this is redundant now."
Thranduil's fingers stilled on her back. His throat bobbed. "How did you…"
"Oropher helped me."
She had remembered that horrible morning, so long ago, when Nemir had stormed away from Thranduil, from Legolas too. Remembered seeing Thranduil's rage and despair as he cast his own betrothal ring to the wooden boards that lined the stable in Imladris. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that both elves wore a band, and while Thranduil had given her one, he had never expected her to know or yet be able to return the gesture of his people.
"I think the merchant undersold it," Charlotte said, "but it is yours. I bought it."
"How?" he asked, still stunned.
"Apparently, 'defender of the realm' is a salaried position," Charlotte joked.
"I'm aware." His lips thinned, and his eyes grew somber. When Charlotte cocked her head in confusion, he added, "I wanted to not only give you what you had earned but to ensure that you felt you were free to go wherever you pleased."
Her throat felt tight. She should have known that, as the Elvenking, Thranduil would have been behind such a monetary reward, and her heart hurt for him. During the days he'd kept his vigil over her unconscious body, he'd arranged for her freedom, ensured her ability to choose her own path, even if it meant losing her, even as he mourned the possibility of her fading into Mandos' care.
She was grateful that she'd had the opportunity to make herself clear afterward when he'd taken her into the forest to show her Fû Nan Gilith. Her stomach tightened at the thought of passing on and leaving Thranduil to wonder about her feelings for him.
Charlotte turned, so she was fully facing him, and the fur slid down. She bit her lip as Thranduil's eyes darted toward the newly exposed territory. "I probably shouldn't have, but I declined it all, minus what I needed to pay for a ring. Oropher helped me find the merchant and taught me the tradition." She grinned and held the ring out again. "So, Thranduil Oropherion, marry me?"
Thranduil's smile was blinding as she slid the ring onto his index finger. "You know that we are already wed through our bond," he said, "but I promise to make those same vows before all of our people, as soon as possible, meleth nîn. I wasn't joking. I fear you'll run to the next dangerous creature you can find. I'll wake one morning to find you've rushed off to vanquish a dragon."
Charlotte scoffed. "A dragon, Thranduil? Wait—" Her eyes widened. "There aren't really dragons here, are there?"
Thranduil only laughed, the sound light and joyous. "There will not be a boring moment in this life with you. I look forward to it."
She gave him a wicked grin. "Speaking of exciting things…"
Thranduil quirked a brow at her, his face still relaxed and smiling.
"I was promised cavern tearing." She bit her lip. Her cheeks ached with happiness, and she let some of the heat in her soul rise to her eyes.
Her love, her bonded, her husband only grinned and descended on her once more, fingers delving into her hair at the exact moment his mouth met hers.
It was good to be home.
Translations:
Elendann — Stars Shield
Meinaran — First King
Note: Oropher's "full name" used here is not canon, nor is Meinaran intended as a "last name." Here Meinaran is being used as an epessë, one (in this story) given to him by the Silvan elves to honor and remind him that they chose him as their king where they had no king before.
Nana vs Naneth: Great question! "Naneth" is the formal version meaning "Mother" and "Nana" is the informal version meaning "Mama" or "Mommy." So Legolas has always referred to Nemir as "Mother" and now Charlotte is "Mama" or "Mommy."
AN: Whew! This is the longest slow burn I've ever written. :) We have one final "chapter," which is actually a lengthy epilogue. Friendly reminder: If you want a spicier bonding scene, you'll want to head over to Archive of Our Own. The story is posted there under the same title and author name. (Everything is the same between stories except for this bonding scene.)
