Epilogue
Thranduil's charcoal grey cloak fluttered in the icy breeze, hooked over a snow-dusted branch far above her head.
"You did what to Thranduil?" Charlotte asked Haedirn. She stood with her gwaethainn and Ellavorn on the bridge leading into the forest, their boots gliding atop the scant inches of snow that had coated Eryn Galen overnight.
"We kidnapped him," Haedirn said gleefully. "It's tradition."
"Well," Maethor grimaced, "it's a variation of the tradition."
"True," Haedirn nodded. "We normally take the bride. Ellavorn wanted to kidnap you both and set you on different sides of the forest."
"Why?" She hadn't wanted to be alone today, but traipsing through the forest in search of her kidnapped husband the night before their official wedding ceremony wasn't on her to-do list either.
Haedirn shrugged and said, "It's a Silvan custom where the groom must prove to the bride's family that he is able to care for her. Her family hides her and then drags the groom into the forest, and he's forced to find her if he wishes to wed her."
"That's it?" Charlotte raised a brow. An elaborate pre-wedding game of hide-and-seek?
"Well," Ellavorn said, "the bride's family is also responsible for hindering his progress."
"So you see," Haedirn pitched in, "we couldn't kidnap you and rough him up. We weren't leaving you unguarded somewhere."
Charlotte's lungs froze. The darkening forest thickened, its branches bending as if to hide the beasts within. The layers of snow that were beautiful only moments before suddenly appeared mysterious and haunting. "Is Thranduil unguarded?"
Ellavorn shrugged, though his eyes glittered. "We left him with a stick."
"A stick?"
"It was sharp, or it will be if he remembers to sharpen it."
"Once he gets free of the ropes," Haedirn added.
"Haedirn!"
The ellyn laughed, but it was Maethor who said, "We did leave him with his clothes, at least."
"Most of them," Ellavorn said.
Thranduil was tied somewhere in the forest with no weapons and minimal clothing. She eyed the fluttering cloak again, caught between laughing and dragging them all around by their ears until he was found. But Idhrenes had made one thing perfectly clear during their three months of lessons: traditions were highly important to the Silvan elves, to anyone really. Despite the dismal conditions, she knew deep down that they wouldn't allow their king to come to harm. She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled sharply.
"Aren't you all supposed to be getting drunk with him… wherever he is?" she asked.
"Well, no, because then who would do this?" Ellavorn said, just before he whipped out a wooden training sword and swung for her head.
Charlotte dropped to the ground, the benefit to months of daily training kicking in, but he twisted the sword overhead and came down with a stinging thwack on her calf. "Ellavorn, what the hell?"
It was no worse than any of the times he'd landed a blow on her during training, but at least then she had a sword of her own. Although, it would explain why he'd been focusing on "evasion as a defense" for the past two weeks of their lessons. At least she wasn't battling him every morning in a gown anymore. He'd kept his promise and drilled her for over a month until she could comfortably withstand both him and Haedirn attacking her at the same time while in her heaviest dress.
"Sorry, Charlotte," Haedirn chuckled, pulling her to her feet once more. "Part of the tradition is to rough up the searcher."
"Didn't you take a vow— Stop swinging that at me, you arsehole," she hissed as Ellavorn aimed for her legs again. The wood cracked painfully against her thigh. She turned to her guards. "Didn't you take a vow to protect me?"
"Of course," Haedirn said cheekily. "That's why Maethor is here."
Charlotte raised a brow, "And what are the other rules in this game?"
Ellavorn, clearly sensing that she was caving to tradition, grinned and held the sword at his side. "The requirements are fairly simple. We've kidnapped Thranduil and hidden him in the forest. You have to find him."
"That's it?" Charlotte asked again.
"Well," Haedirn smirked, "there will be obstacles, of course, and you will be required to prove your worth by your own merits."
So Thranduil was safe, and she would be mostly safe if not a little sore by the end of it. She knew if she declined the search, all three ellyn would call it off immediately without question. But, it did sound like fun since everyone would be alright, and the forest was now shielded. And she definitely did not want to be alone for today, didn't want to have that time to herself to think about who was missing from all of her pre-wedding activities.
Still, she owed Ellavorn for whacking her with the sword. She smiled serenely and closed her eyes, descending into her fëa until she could scoop it up and channel it into the stone.
"No!" Haedirn dove for her. "No cheating!"
Charlotte blocked the flow through the necklace and peeked an eye open with an innocent grin. "What? You both looked so sleepy. Just thought I'd lend a hand."
Maethor was shaking with silent laughter, his arms crossed as he watched Ellavorn and Haedirn try to throw off their sudden drowsiness. "You never said she couldn't use it. It is one of her abilities, and it takes energy and skill for her to do it, as any other ellon would use archery or swordsmanship. And she hones that skill just as any warden would."
It was true; since the battle, Charlotte had settled into a hefty schedule, which included a thorough Elven education with a reluctant Golodhon, warfare and warden training with her gwaethainn and Ellavorn, and an afternoon session with Idhrenes.
Those lessons had become her favorite because Idhrenes led her through the culture and traditions of the Greenwood in the way of old friends. They were either baking or eating or chatting over tea at what had become their table in the kitchen. It was a pleasant break before she went into the forest for an afternoon of working on her less common abilities. She traveled the song with either Oropher or Thranduil, worked on her bond with Maethor and Haedirn, or spent a day in independent study, focusing on refining the use of her necklace. It was often tireless and slow work, but she enjoyed it.
And she had improved exponentially, though she was still a bit heavy-handed in her execution. She eyed Haedirn teetering beside her, his eyes struggling to blink and stay open.
"See?" Maethor said. "She's been practicing; she deserves a chance to use it."
"No magic," Ellavorn insisted, though his words were a smidge slurred. He shook his head, trying to wake himself up. "No, no, and none of that mind-to-mind business. We wouldn't leave those wardens with a sword or bow either. This is a test of worth."
"When does Thranduil have to prove his worth?" Charlotte crossed her arms.
The ellyn glanced at each other.
"She has a point," Maethor said.
"We'll kidnap him tomorrow then." Haedirn gestured toward the forest. "Now, come on, or your love will be eaten by wolves and freeze to death."
Maethor rolled his eyes. "There are no wolves in the Greenwood."
"Let's get moving." Charlotte eyed the sun sinking low over the treetops. "I imagine it might take me a few hours to find him."
"If you're ready," Ellavorn smirked, and then he swung for her once more.
Thwack!
— O —
The drums pounded through her blood, and Charlotte spun around the bonfire, lost in the stream of dancing elves, with her arms raised toward the stars and a beaming smile flushing her cheeks. She was covered in mud and leaves, and her flesh was red and stinging from the few hits Ellavorn had managed to get in with his wooden sword before she'd disarmed him and chucked the thing into the Tithenduin. He'd grumped about it, but she'd sweetly told him, "If you want it back so badly, swim for it."
He'd only grinned at her, watching her rub the latest sore spot on her arm, and said, "That was your training sword."
"I still have no regrets."
It had only taken her two hours to hunt down Thranduil, following the trail of his scattered clothing south until she'd found her disgruntled husband tied to a tree with only his leggings and boots, trying to bribe Legolas into setting him free with the promise of sweets.
Even if Legolas had not been firmly enjoying his adar's discomfort, finding it worth giggling at his adar's pleading, Oropher would never have allowed Thranduil to get free. Afterward, she found out that Thranduil had escaped once, and Oropher betrayed him, tackled him, and tied him up again.
When Charlotte had stepped into the firelight, her eyes filled with mirth at Thranduil's predicament, the crowd of assembled elves cheered, a cry loud enough to shake the winter birds from their branches. The moment she used her dagger to slice him free from his restraints, he swept her into his arms, spinning her until powdery snow swirled up under her feet, and the music, a heady symphony of drums and lyres and flutes, careened toward the sky, dragging her heart along.
Thranduil's lips descended, eager to press against hers, but Oropher spun her out of his arms with a mischievous grin and tugged her into the current of elves dancing around the fire. From there, she was passed from ellon to ellon, both unmet and familiar, as if they'd formed their own version of the tradition and had made it their goal to keep Thranduil from dancing with her.
So she swirled and spun, orbiting the flames, a small star in the darkness, her joy and laughter radiating out in her unveiled fëa. The few times she thought she saw an opportunity to slip away from the dance, an ellon appeared in front of her and dragged her back into the rings of elves. They managed to keep her away from Thranduil for over an hour until she took a final spin and landed in the thin arms of her next partner.
Charlotte laughed at the wicked grin her lady's maid sported. Sídher pulled her along in the dance, her steps lithe and graceful, despite the soggy earth beneath them. The heat from the fire had burned away a large circle in the snow, and the dancing elves had reduced the space to a ring of mud and slick grass.
Sídher's smile softened, her movements firm as she danced them through the throng, and she said, "They will go at this all night if we do not stop them."
Thranduil swirled past them in the outer ring, his eyes catching her for only a brief second before he was pulled out of her sight. Behind him, Haedirn danced with another elleth, though he was clearly uninvested. He tracked Charlotte's movements even as they danced on opposite sides of the fire.
Charlotte eyed the elleth in her arms, and a slow smile crept across her face. "I think I have an idea."
It took three more turns before they lined up perfectly, and Charlotte shouted, "Switch!" With so many elves, slightly intoxicated and trained to drop at a single order, she wasn't surprised to see the ellyn follow the command, only to twist their heads around in confusion afterward. By then, Charlotte had already captured Thranduil, pulling them both out of the lines of dancers and sending Sídher straight into Haedirn's arms.
"You," Thranduil said, leaning to whisper in her ear, "are diabolical, and I know exactly what you're up to."
Charlotte eyed the dancing couple, trying to decide if the flush in her gwaethann's cheeks was due to the fire or Sídher, and said, "I'm just giving them the opportunity. The rest, if there is anything at all, will be up to them."
"Valar save Legolas when the time comes," he chuckled, and then finally, finally, his lips met hers, and the fire had nothing on the heat that bloomed beneath her skin.
Her hands dove for his hair, her tongue caressing his and setting off tiny explosions throughout her body. His scent, woodsmoke and pine and the faint ever-present vanilla, grew stronger as he swept her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips, and he carried her away from the party. They both ignored the cheers that rose behind them.
— O —
Hours later, they could still hear the distant sound of the crackling bonfire and the music from the elves. From her perch in the beech, she could see the bright orange glow that illuminated the forest clearing where their people still partied and would likely continue until dawn.
She settled back into Thranduil's arms, letting her eyes drift closed with a soft contented smile.
They'd barely made it far enough into the forest to not be heard before they clashed, all tongues and teeth and frantic hands as they tore off what little clothing remained. Thranduil stretched her out on their cloaks, tucked into a bed of her white blossoms and snow, his reverent whisper the only sound as he thoroughly worshipped her. "You are a goddess," he said, "one that I would eagerly kneel before."
Her skin flushed, but she believed him. Clothed in the silver moonlight, draped in delicate white petals peeking out of their snowy nests, with her hair strewn in a halo above her head and the song of the forest in her fëa, she felt like a wild nature spirit, the very kind she'd teased Thranduil about the first time he'd brought her into a fairy ring.
With the reverence in Thranduil's silver eyes as he beheld her, the way his mouth was slightly open as if in disbelief, she could easily picture herself as the fey maiden who lured him into her spell. She felt powerful under that stare, a true goddess as she pressed her hand against his warm shoulder, flipped him onto his back, and rode him until his fingers tore through the snow, ripping the frozen grass from the soil.
When she started to shiver in the cold, and the tiny plinks of fresh snow reached through their haze, he'd helped her dress, carried her into the tree canopy, and blanketed her with both of their cloaks, not quite ready to return to the caverns and their responsibilities. If there was anything urgent that required their attention, Charlotte knew her gwaethainn would easily find her.
She prodded at the tether between them and found them just outside of hearing range, offering her privacy while still monitoring her safety. She'd have to figure out how to ensure they had downtime from guard duty. It was one of the many things she had to sort out, but at least she didn't have to do it alone anymore. Her family would be there for her, just as she was for them.
"My queen, my love," Thranduil whispered against her neck and then pressed his lips to her chilled skin.
Charlotte tilted her head back with a soft, happy moan. "Do not tempt me," she said, burrowing further into his chest to steal his body heat. Thranduil was like her own personal furnace. "While I have considered it, I'd rather wait until it's warmer."
"Wicked elleth." His surprised grin flitted across her skin. "And where else should I take you? If there's a list, I wouldn't wish to disappoint." His words slid up her neck, leaving the skin pebbled in the wake of his trailing lips, until his breath shivered across the point of her ear, and her body tightened and warmed.
"That," she said, her voice breathy, "reminds me."
"Of?"
"Something Oropher said to Cúthon."
Thranduil's hands froze on her arms. His lips hovered just over her ear, and then he pulled back, and she could see his brows scrunched in confusion when she peeked over her shoulder. "And what did my Adar say to that spineless worm?"
"In particular? Cúthon called me a 'powerless, pretty accessory,' but Oropher implied otherwise." She shrugged. "The words themselves weren't flattering, but he's somewhat correct, I thought. I would be your consort, and I'm okay with that."
Thranduil was silent for a moment. An owl hooted in the canopy, and the thin branches high above them clacked against each other as another breeze swept through.
"Did you wish for such a role?" Thranduil asked, his words low and cautious. "To be only a consort?" His hands slid down her arms until he could coax her into turning sidewise in his lap so he could see her face. She felt his anxiety and concern pulsing lightly through their bond, saw it in the slight frown at the corners of his mouth.
Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think through her words, wanting to make sure she said exactly what she meant. Her hesitation only ramped up the tension she felt in the bond, and she squeezed Thranduil's hand and said, "I'm only organizing my thoughts. I promise."
And though the anxiety was still present, it dulled considerably.
She did wish to be queen alongside him. She wanted the ability to help the people she'd grown to love, but Charlotte knew she could still help them without the full title. Was it a sticking point? Would she refuse his hand, even if she could at this point, because she would be only a consort? Absolutely not. She knew that she'd found her home with him, with the people she'd met here and on the journey to the Greenwood. She cared about this realm, these elves, and that was more powerful than any title.
"If you worry that I would prefer not to rule by your side," she finally said, "that is not the case. Whether I am Queen or Consort, I will cherish my home and its people. I will cherish you."
His shoulders sagged, and a bashful twitch of his lips lit his cheeks pink. "I am relieved because I already sealed the law. I would have you as my equal, ruling this realm hand-in-hand until we decide together to sail west for Valinor, and then it will be on Legolas to choose his own bonded's responsibilities."
"Unless he sails with us and leaves one of his siblings in charge," she said, trying to sound innocent.
"Siblings?" Thranduil's voice was rough, and his eyes darkened.
"Would that be something you'd wish for?" She asked, stumbling over the words. "Maybe not straight away, but later? When everything is settled, and we're ready, I mean. Because I would want that with you."
His arms tightened around her, his thumb already sliding beneath the hem of her tunic. "Careful, my lovely wife." He hummed as his hand caressed the length of her spine, the callouses from years of handling swords and bows scraping across her soft skin. "Or I may turn all of my considerable charm and attention to rehearsing for such a task immediately."
Charlotte bit her lip, her eyes glittering. "Enough to tear down the caverns, my love."
Her laugh filled the canopy as he swept her into his arms and raced through the forest, leaping from branch to branch as he carried her north, toward the caverns, toward their home.
— O —
Celebrían was quite literally glowing. She perched on one of the divans dragged into Charlotte's old chambers, her three dazzling fëar rivaling the afternoon sun pouring through the windows. Charlotte was lovingly jealous because, after a stolen evening of Thranduil's attentions, she'd felt completely wrung out when all of the important ellith in her life had arrived at dawn to pull the bride from her bed and ready her for the day.
Apparently, "readying" involved a long bath and then spending the rest of the morning drinking wine, nibbling on dried and honeyed fruit and thick slabs of crisp bread, and sharing rather indelicate stories about marriage and the ellyn in their lives.
Stories that were risque enough that when Haedirn knocked on her chamber door and peeked his head in, the tips of his ears were flushed pink to match his cheeks, and he steadfastly refused to look at Idhrenes, who had been the most prolific storyteller.
"Lady Celebrían?" he said, his eyes still on the stones beneath his feet.
And before he could say anymore, a beatific smile spread across Celebrían's face, and she swept up from the divan. "It's arrived?" She clapped her hands once and turned to Charlotte. "I have somewhat of a wedding present for you."
Haedirn ducked out for a moment and returned with a small wooden box, which he handed to Celebrían.
"Just a moment on the other one, please?" Celebrían said to Haedirn, and then she settled beside Charlotte on the divan once more and unceremoniously held out the box. "This isn't technically my gift," she said, "because it was already yours."
Charlotte tilted her head, her eyes flickering to Haedirn in question. But if he knew what it was, he was masking it well. His brows were furrowed, and even the bond radiated uncertainty.
The lid slid off easily, the smell of pine wafting up as she moved. Celebrían clapped a hand to her mouth, the other settling low on the slight curve of her belly, and she whispered, "I'd forgotten how strong that scent is."
"Do you want me to—"
"No," Celebrían insisted. She gestured to the box, though she looked terribly pale. "Open it. I've been waiting to see it returned to you."
Still, Charlotte tugged out the fabric bundle within and discreetly passed the box to Idhrenes, who carried it to the other side of the room. Meluieth was already handing Celebrían a cup of tea, and the sharp ginger scent quickly masked the pine enough for the elleth to gesture toward the gift again. Whatever it was, it was hard and thin.
Charlotte settled it on her lap and flipped the folds of fabric away. Glossy black greeted her, and her hand flew to her chest, a pained gasp escaping her lungs.
Nestled in the soft blue fabric, safe and undamaged, was her phone.
"Where did you—" The knot in her throat swelled. "I didn't realize it came with me."
"Our wardens found it when they searched the plains," Celebrían said.
Charlotte's hands shook as she scooped the phone from its bed. Her mother. All the photos, her voicemails, they were all in the palm of her hand.
And she couldn't get to them.
She tapped the screen anyway, held the power button, daring to hope, but it remained stubbornly cold and dark.
"I am so sorry that it did not reach Imladris until after you left," Celebrían said. "But it glowed for a few hours before its death. I wasn't certain who it was in your painting, but I assumed it was someone important for you to carry her likeness."
Celebrían gestured to Haedirn, and he disappeared for a moment before two ellyn walked through her door, carrying a linen-draped rectangle between them.
They held it up, braced by their shoulders, and then Celebrían was rising, and Charlotte's heart climbed into her throat. Celebrían took hold of the linen and whipped it off.
Charlotte's hands flung to her face, covering her mouth even as her chest crumbled.
Her mother.
A perfect copy of the photo Charlotte had set as the background on her phone. Valar, she could barely see it as tears flowed over her lashes and heavy sobs ripped through her chest.
Somehow she'd still managed to have her mother on her wedding day. Even if it was only in a painting. Celebrían's arms came around her in a gentle hug, and Charlotte hoped the elleth understood her watery cries.
"Thank you so much." She pressed her hand against her mouth as another wave of grief swept through. "Oh, Celebrían, it's perfect. It really is."
Her mother's green eyes glittered back at her, her lips twitched at the corner in joy. Every detail was there, all the pieces that had grown fuzzy in her own memory: the familiar freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose, the curls in her long hair, the heart-shaped face that Abby had inherited.
Charlotte's heart squeezed painfully, and a shadow of concern flickered at the edge of her awareness. Idhrenes studied her with wide eyes and then said to all the elves, "Let's give her some time. Out." She patted Charlotte's free hand and said quietly, "We'll check on the feast in the kitchens, and then we'll need to get you into your gown."
As soon as the ellith vanished, Maethor and Haedirn bounded into the room and squashed her between them.
She pressed her wet face into Maethor's tunic, and the feel of his fëa and Haedirn's lessened the intensity of her pain. She still felt nauseated and dizzy and wrung dry, and every time her eyes caught the painting, another sob ripped free from her chest, and the tears began anew.
It seemed like hours, drifting in and out, riding the waves of grief as they rolled over her, but then she heard raised voices outside her door, followed by a loud thump and a groan.
"She is fine, ion nín."
Charlotte sniffled, her head popping up at the sound of Oropher's voice.
"She is not fine, Adar." Thranduil's voice insisted through the wood. "I can feel her. She's hurting."
"You are not going in there." Another thud. "I will knock you out and carry you back to your chambers. She has made very few requests about the traditions used in this wedding, and I will not have you upending one. You cannot see her before the ceremony."
There was a brief moment of silence, and Charlotte could just picture them sizing each other up. She briefly wondered: would the Elvenking win or his adar?
Maethor handed her a handkerchief, and she swept the moisture from her eyes as she crept toward her door. "Thranduil?" Her voice was ragged and did nothing to reassure him. Now that she had settled into her body again, she could feel the concern and anxiety rippling through his end of their bond. She cracked the door open, carefully tucking herself behind the wood, and reached through the opening.
His hand met hers in an instant.
"You are well?"
"I will be," she said and then told him about Celebrían's gift.
Thranduil huffed on the other side of the door, but his thumb rubbed across the top of her hand. "I suppose it did not occur to them to provide a modicum of warning?"
"I don't think Celebrían expected me to react so intensely."
Thranduil hummed, and Charlotte worried Elrond would be getting an earful when the Elvenking returned to his chambers. "I can feel you, you know," he reminded her.
Charlotte rested her head against the wood, nodding before she remembered he couldn't see it. "Maethor and Haedirn are here," she said, "and I will be with you soon enough."
"Not as soon as I'd like."
She cracked a weak grin. "Then let me get ready and stop wrestling with your adar in the hall. I won't have either one of you sporting black eyes."
Thranduil grumbled a bit but said, "I'll see you at sunset, meleth nîn." His lips pressed against her skin, lingering across her knuckles, and a ghost of chuckle caused heat to blossom low in her belly. "Sunset," he said again, and then his fingers slipped from her grip, and she could hear him strolling down the corridor, back to the royal wing and his own chambers where Ellavorn, Elrond, and Legolas would be waiting.
Oropher remained behind, but it was the cheerfully chirped, "Now, can I tell her?" that made her realize Legolas had actually come along as well.
Charlotte didn't hesitate. She flung the door wide and dropped to her knees with her arms open.
"Nana!" Legolas cried and threw his arms around her neck.
She had been regretting her sentimental decision to hide from Thranduil before the wedding, but at least she could visit with her little leaf. His hair was damp from his bath, and someone had already dressed him for the ceremony in his new forest green robes and dark leggings. Thranduil had made it his personal pet project over the last three months to organize new wardrobes for all three of his family members, and the change in Legolas, just from the possession of well-fitting clothing, was astonishing.
Her little leaf snuggled into her for a moment before he pulled back, and his tiny brows furrowed in confusion. "Why can I not stay with you today? The ellyn are all talking about boring stuff, and you all sounded like you were having much more fun earlier."
Charlotte's head jerked up to find Oropher, and he shrugged.
"We covered his ears before he heard much more than laughter," he said.
Legolas scrunched his nose and rubbed his ear as if the memory pained him. "They did, but then we had an archery competition, and I won!" His tiny chest puffed.
"Indeed, you did." Oropher slid his hand over Legolas's hair with a wistful smile. "Your adar is expecting you, and we do not wish to have him come searching. I doubt I will be able to keep him separate from your nana much longer. So tell her your secret."
"Right," Legolas frowned and jerked his chin. "Nana, I picked some blossoms for you today. Meluieth is bringing them, she said. But I wanted to tell you that I named them!"
"Oh?" Charlotte's heart fluttered.
Legolas nodded again and settled further into her arms. "I did, and Adar approved it! I spent lots of time thinking about it."
"And what did you decide on?"
"Limlug!" He giggled. Sea serpent. She was transported back to the very first time she had met him, when she'd stood confused and alone before the steps to Elrond's home.
"Limlug, hmm?" Her hands danced like spiders along his sides, and his wails of laughter, high and bright, filled the corridor.
Amusement and affection flickered from Thranduil's end of their bond, and Charlotte knew even he could hear their little leaf's shrieks of joy.
"Nana!" Legolas laughed, and then he squirmed free of her tickling hands. "I yield! I yield!"
Charlotte's cheeks hurt from smiling, and her grin only widened as Legolas plopped back into her lap with a tired sigh.
"I didn't name them limlug," he said, shaking his head as if she'd been silly to believe him. "I call them ethael. Or athael for just one, of course."
Healing stars.
"Legolas," she hugged him tightly, "that's wonderful! How did you think of that?"
Her little leaf puffed his chest out proudly again, and a grin stole over his face. "Because they look like stars! Especially at night from the canopy. It's like there are stars above and below, and you're swimming in them." He scrunched his brow for a moment and turned to Oropher, "Can we go swimming in the springs tomorrow?"
Oropher only laughed and waved a hand at him, "We'll see, Legolas. For now, we must let your nana prepare."
"But I didn't tell her the other part!"
"You are the very image of your adar," Oropher said with a sigh. "I can hardly keep either of you away from her."
"She wants us," Legolas insisted.
"I do," Charlotte said, pressing a quick kiss to his head. "All the time. Why don't you finish telling me about it, and then you can help your adar get ready."
"But you just said it," Legolas said. Charlotte tilted her head, and Legolas whispered, "You wanted us, and you made us all feel better. You healed things even Elrond can't. You're our healing star."
Her eyes were misty as she let a bittersweet smile grace her face. She wrapped Legolas into her arms and reached out to hold Oropher's hand. Oropher had spent so long feeling isolated, and Legolas… Charlotte would never forgive Nemir for making him doubt his worth, for making him feel like it was a miracle that he could be wanted and loved.
"I will always want you," she said to both of them, and then Oropher kneeled on the stones beside them and embraced his family.
— O —
Oropher kept tugging at his cuffs, his feet shifting on the stones in the entrance hall. Charlotte was sure he would tear his sleeves at any moment. Still, he watched from the teal doors, waiting beside Maethor and Haedirn for the ellith to finish their final touches.
Charlotte's silk skirts swished across the stones as Meleuieth gave them a last shake before she guided them so they settled neatly around the bride's slippered feet. She'd never seen a gown so lovely, the shade such a dark blue it reminded her of the night sky. She doubted anyone in Middle Earth had seen such a gown before.
She'd taken Haedirn's joking suggestion about bringing pieces of her modern-day fashion to Middle Earth and merged it with well-known Elven styles in the Greenwood. Celebrían had been the driving force behind the projects, working on sketches with Charlotte for two weeks before they felt satisfied, and then they passed their projects to the raised-brow seamstress and prayed.
"It's stunning," Celebrían said, adjusting the sweeping cape of Charlotte's gown until it trailed behind her.
Delicate white flowers, the ethael, as Legolas had dubbed them, blossomed along the bottom of her cape, growing sparser as they climbed until they gave way to glittering gemstones, sparkling like stars across her shoulders. The same jewel dangled from the silver circlet nestled atop her curls. It matched perfectly with the antlered mithril necklace and the stone that had carried her into this world, which shone lightly against her skin, framed by the modest vee of her bodice.
"It is," Oropher said, his voice low. "Beautiful."
She couldn't wait until Thranduil saw it, was even more excited about him taking it off and discovering the tiny scraps of fabric she wore beneath. Celebrían had been both scandalized and intrigued and had quietly requested assistance in designing another set for her to take home to Imladris.
Idhrenes offered a soft smile and placed her hand against Charlotte's cheek. "You look lovely, dear," she said. "We'll see you out there. Don't forget what I said."
Charlotte nodded and watched Idhrenes lead the ellith from the entrance hall, leaving her alone with Oropher and her gwaethainn. The king shifted his weight but was silent until the door closed with a soft thud that echoed through the cavernous chamber.
"Is Thranduil alright?" Charlotte asked. Had he changed his mind? No. He wouldn't. She could already feel his eagerness through the bond, like sparklers in her blood.
Oropher finally stepped toward her, his robes sweeping across the stones. "He is well," he said. "I came because..." He swallowed. "I thought that you might be interested in joining me for something."
She tilted her head, but Oropher was already pacing in front of her. "It's the last chance, you see. They're transporting him from the caverns tonight. Thranduil wants him away from here before the ceremony."
"Oropher, what are you—" The answer flashed through her mind like lightning.
Cúthon.
"They're moving him tonight?" Charlotte asked. Why tonight? The Imladris elves weren't supposed to depart until morning. Amroth, who had come to the wedding without his kinslayers, would leave with the Imladris party and aid in escorting Cúthon and Lothuial as far as the Anduin before he turned south.
"Thranduil wants him out of the forest," Oropher said again. "I only found out because I—" He snapped his mouth shut.
Charlotte's shoulders sank. "You've been visiting him again."
"He was my advisor," Oropher whispered, his gaze on the teal doors as if he could see through them. "For nearly the entirety of my rule."
She closed the gap between them, her sweeping train dragging behind her, and wrapped her arms around him. Oropher didn't seem to realize that he'd automatically opened his arms to accept her, pulling her snugly into his chest.
"I just need to know why." Oropher's voice was low and shaking. "Elflings are so precious to us; our ellith as well. There are so few of both. Too much war, too much darkness, snuffed out those lights in Middle Earth. She was his queen. She bore his princess. I don't understand."
"Good," Charlotte said. Her eyes clenched shut against the pain in her heart. "I would be worried if you ever reached a point where his actions were sensible."
Oropher squeezed her tighter. "They were innocent. It— It should have been me."
She got the feeling he was talking about so much more than those two particular deaths. Her cheek rubbed against his soft tunic as she shook her head. "Oropher, you are not responsible for their deaths."
"If I'd—"
"No," she said sternly. She kept her face pressed against his chest. Knew that if she saw the grief on his face, the pain she heard in his voice, she would crumble too. And she would never be able to get the words out then. "Cúthon made that choice, not you. And short of abdicating, leaving your people in his selfish hands, there is nothing you could have done. Even that might not have been enough. We'll never know."
"And the others?"
Charlotte sighed. This one was much harder. Oropher had given those orders when he was afraid his people would be used, their lives cheaply tossed aside. He'd been buried in grief from the murder of his wife and child.
"Without the betrothal, there would be no Legolas," Charlotte said. "And as for the others…" She bit her lip. "We'll be here to help you through it. Just know that you've already served your time, and you were judged by Nienna. She saw something in you worth giving a second chance. I'll be by your side until you see it too."
"What did we do to deserve you?" His body curled around her, his thumbs stroking across her shoulder blades.
She asked herself the same thing about them all the time. She couldn't imagine what she had done to earn this beautiful family, but they were hers now, and she would always cherish them. "Let's go," she said, pulling back.
"Where?"
"To see the snake out." She tucked her arm through his and led him toward the teal doors.
Maethor and Haedirn fell into position behind her, and she felt their fëar connected with her soul, shielding her.
The cool evening air licked her skin, and her feet skated across the glittering snow. The top layer had frozen, and she was surprised to find that neither she nor Oropher sank as they walked across the bridge and into the forest.
Tucked between the trees a few minutes north of the cavern entrance, a covered wagon waited, surrounded by ten wardens on horseback. Charlotte stopped when she was close enough to see Cúthon's profile through the iron bars that made up the rear door. Behind him, Lothuial glared through the barred side window, refusing to even glance at her adar.
"Well?" Charlotte gently asked Oropher.
He was still and silent beside her, and when she glanced upward, she found him frowning at the wagon and the pathetic creatures within. She leaned into his arm, partially to reassure him but also to steal his body heat. Silvan tradition dictated that all weddings were held outside, and though her dress was thick, her arms were bare. Charlotte tugged her heavy cape around her. "Oropher?"
Still, he didn't move. His eyes remained wide and unseeing, focused solely on the wood and iron cage that held the ellon who'd murdered half his family.
The moment Cúthon spotted them, his mouth twisted, his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Back again, Oropher?" He taunted, spinning himself around so that he could clasp both hands around the bars. "Come to say farewell?"
Oropher's spine stiffened, and his nostrils flared.
"Perhaps you wished for me to pass on a message for you? In case they're waiting?"
Cúthon's words struck deep. Oropher's mouth tightened, a muscle fluttered in his jaw, and only Charlotte's arm around his kept him from storming the prison wagon.
"See him," Charlotte said. "Look."
Oropher's eyes finally focused on the two elves within the wagon, his mind quickly realizing what she meant. Cúthon's tunic hung limply from his body, and his hair was greasy and matted. His daughter was much the same, though she sat pressed into the corner, as far away from her adar as she could get in the limited space.
Thranduil had ensured the prisoners had received daily food and drink rations and two buckets of water a week. What they choose to do with the buckets, bathe or wash their clothes, was up to them. They'd deserved far less, but Thranduil wished to keep Cúthon alive until the Valar could decide his final fate. Filth often led to disease, and Thranduil wasn't going to allow Cúthon to escape in such a way.
"Charlotte?" Maethor whispered beside her. He gestured toward the horizon where the sun was slipping beneath the trees.
Thranduil was waiting for her. Her lips pressed into a line, and she tugged gently on Oropher's arm. "It's time," she said.
His brows furrowed, but he tilted his chin up. "It is." He turned toward the wardens and said, "Safe travels. We will eagerly await your return home."
They bowed as one, their fists pressed to their hearts, and then they turned, leading the prison wagon into the growing darkness of the forest.
Oropher watched them until they vanished from view, hidden behind the thick trunks of the beech trees.
Charlotte rested her head on his shoulder and eyed the purple and peach sky. "Oropher?"
"Hmm?"
"You started this adventure with me. Will you walk me to my next one?"
She felt him press a kiss to the crown of her head. "I'd consider it an honor."
— O —
Even as Charlotte stepped into the clearing and the elves turned to watch her process down the aisle between them, she could not move her eyes from Thranduil. His beaming smile greeted her, though he was momentarily confused when she arrived on Oropher's arm, and then she watched the heat rise in his eyes as his gaze descended, taking in the curves of her bodice, the thick, flowing skirt, and the trailing silk cape.
He radiated such joy that his fëa glowed with it, and as Charlotte took her first step toward him, she allowed her own happiness to fill the clearing, pulling off the dimmer that shielded her fëa. Her skin was glowing, the light reflecting off the gemstones on her gown as she swept gracefully between the gathered elves, her feet chilled against the snow, tickled by the petals of the ethael covering the ground.
Thranduil pulled her into his arms the second she was within reach. He captured her lips, crashing against the fire in her veins, even as his hands pressed into her lower back, curving her against him.
The assembled elves chuckled, and Thranduil pulled away with a sheepish grin. "I could not help myself," he murmured, slightly shrugging one shoulder. He was dressed in charcoal, from his tunic to his leggings. Even his cloak was a deep grey embroidered with silver. The underside, however, was the exact dark blue of her gown.
He read the question in her eyes and tilted his head toward the front row where Celebrían stood with Elrond and Legolas.
Legolas rolled onto the balls of his feet and grinned at her, and Charlotte felt herself burn a little brighter, just for him. "I love you," she mouthed to her little leaf, and then she turned to Thranduil, and before the family they'd built, they once more gave their vows.
She hardly remembered saying the words, already knowing them by heart, but she would forever remember the way Thranduil's lips claimed hers afterward, remember how Legolas whooped and cheered and the elves sang, their lilting voices soaring toward the stars. And she'd remember Thranduil's voice, deep and warm in her ear as the party began around them.
"Never alone," he vowed, and even as she answered, she heard the words echo in the bonds surrounding her.
"Never again."
AN: I cannot believe that this is the final chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, and for coming along on this journey. It's well and truly been an honor. It's been a dream reading your thoughts and reactions as you read through the story. I cannot thank you enough. Those comments have been my lifeblood for the past year and a half of writing this, and this story wouldn't exist in its entirety without you.
I've gotten some questions about "what's next?" As for Charlotte and Thranduil: I do not currently have a sequel planned, but I do have a few one-shots planned/written. I have not decided if I'll put them in a separate "story." I personally like being able to just hit "next chapter" without having to navigate away, but I'm open to suggestions.
My next writing project will hopefully be an entirely original work, and I'm going to aim for the terrifying prospect of publication. Fingers crossed! Thank you for believing in me, even when I didn't. When I published the first chapter of this story, I remember telling my sister, "If it doesn't get any reviews in like two weeks, I'm just going to take it down." I was incredibly nervous. And then all of you lovely people showed up! So I hope that I'm adequately expressing my genuine gratitude for your readership! Until next time!
Much love,
NC
