I stayed with Celebrían for several weeks while Elrond tended to her. His mouth was set in a grim line, and I saw despair had taken a permanant residence on his features. I had never realized his depth of care for his wife – of course I had known that he loved her, but he was not the habit of emoting his feelings, much like myself. Still, his grief was difficult to be around. I myself felt completely useless, as my healing abilities were few, but I could at least hold my cousin's hand to offer her comfort.

Thranduil took leave only two days after we arrived at Imladris, claiming his need to return to Amon Lanc. Before he departed, he took me in his arms and held me tight.

"Return to me quickly," he whispered. "The sooner you come – the sooner we may be married."

I did not want him to leave, ecstatic in our new found love – but too miserable with Celebrían's condition to leave her so soon. It was a difficult choice I had to make, cousin over lover, but I knew that Thranduil and I would have eternity. I dared not to hope the same for Celebrían.

"Perhaps you can announce our betrothal straightaway," I suggested. "Then marriage may come even faster!"

Thranduil laughed at my enthusiasm, and left me weak kneed after several long kisses. After I watched him gallop out of sight, I returned to Celebrían's side.

"You love him," she whispered to me. I clenched her hand tightly, pained at her state and wishing for the spirited woman she had been.

"Yes," I replied. "We will be married next summer."

"Oh, I wish I could be here," Celebrían sighed, gaze fixed on the ornate ceiling of her bedchamber before turning to look at me. "You should be with him. You do not need to stay here with me – I am no fit company for you."

I kissed her hand. "I want to see you recover."

Celebrían smiled at me forlornly. "I may not," she warned.

"Then all the more reason for me to stay."

I did depart, finally, at the beginning of autumn. Celebrían insisted that I would be happier with Thranduil and that she was recovering, albeit slowly. I had Elrond promise that he would send word if anything changed – for better or ill. Celebrían was right about me missing Thranduil – it was a constant ache that had filled me, and I had almost grown used to it. I became cheerier as I rode towards Greenwood at the prospect of seeing my love once more, and I sang with the birds for several miles.

Stares followed me as I entered Amon Lanc, elves peering through the tops of trees and windows of houses to watch me. My collar suddenly felt tight, and I wished for water to clear out my throat. I nodded stiffly to those that I recognized, hoping they would not see that my hands were shaking and that I was clenching the reins far too tightly. I wished in vain that they would not gape, even if I was betrothed to the king.

I ran into the safety of the palace, finding said king in his study, sitting in a chair with loose papers in his lap and gazing blankly out the window. He did not see me approach, though I did not try to soften my steps

"I suppose you have announced that we are to be married," I commented, bending down to kiss his head.

He jumped, and turned to look at me in surprise. "Caradel! I did not know you were here – or that you were on your way."

I shrugged, and I sat down lightly on his knee after sweeping the papers to the floor. "I could have sent a message, but I only knew a few days before that I was coming home. Consider me your messenger."

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "I missed you," he said.

"I missed you too!" I laughed. "You seem so morose!"

Thranduil was silent for a moment, returning his gaze to the window and the yellowing leaves. I looked as well, but could not find anything that would unsettle him so. "I cannot banish the dreams from my mind," he said, his tone quiet. "I thought that the bloody sights of the war and the dark power of Mordor would cease."

"Oh, darling," I ran my fingers through his hair, and his shoulders relaxed. "You must replace those thoughts with joyful ones, and your dreams will sweeten!"

"You are too resilient to be affected by such things," Thranduil said, a cross frown creasing his face. "What would you know of banishing nightmares?"

I rolled my eyes. "You do not understand me well quite yet then – I had nightmares after the war, even before. The difference is that I know how to cope with sadness and you do not."

"Don't be superior," he warned.

I pretended to be affronted at this. "I would never!" I leaned forward to place a kiss on his lips before standing. "I am going for a bath. When will my duties resume?"

"Wouldn't you rather plan a wedding than spend your days in council with me?" Thranduil asked, and he seemed genuinely curious.

"After arranging your coronation? Never!" I gave him a saucy wink as I left for my own rooms, and he finally smiled.

One night we went riding alone, enjoying the pale moonlight that illuminated the gnarled branches and making the small patches of snowfall glitter. Winter was never very harsh in the normally humid Greenwood, but the forest still experienced cold – and on this night it the cold would have settled deep into the bones of mortals. The brisk wind was refreshing to me, however, as I had felt stifled in the city for the past months. Thranduil was weary, as he often was with his kingly duties, but still I was grateful for the time he took to spend with me and I sat serenely on my horse and hummed in my happiness.

"I wish it would be spring," he grumbled, after his horse threw up its head, bumping some leaves that still clung to their home and causing a small amount of snow to fall on Thranduil's lap.

I could not help laughing. "Do you say that because you detest the weather, or because you are so eager to marry me?"

"You may choose your answer," he replied testily.

I gave him the side-eye. "I did not realize a bit of snow could turn your mood so sour!"

"I'm not sour."

We rode in silence for a while longer before arriving at a stream rushing too swiftly to freeze. We dismounted and allowed the horses to drink, and I rummaged through my saddlebags for a snack.

"I have something to show you," Thranduil motioned for me to follow him, and I followed him to a great tree that was several arm-spans around. There was a fraying rope hanging into view, which he climbed it easily.

"Drat," I muttered. This would be a challenge with a dress. But I put the fruit I had found in a pocket, and retaining my good-naturedness followed the king up the tree, pausing only to secretly admire his form above me.

Invisible to the ground below, an ageing platform was set in the tree, about 10 meters from the ground. It must have once been in use by wardens, scouting for enemies. Within the thick branches, it seemed milder than the night that lie beyond the covering. Thranduil helped me onto the platform, and he received quite a nice view of my stockings from the flowing reveal of my ridiculous skirt.

"Your stockings do not match your dress," he pointed out as I stood and brushed the snow from my garments.

"It doesn't matter," I assured him. "My legs are not normally displayed. I do have some sense of appropriateness."

We sat, closely intertwined, with our backs to the trunk of the tree and shared the fruit had I brought. The dead, muffling silence that can only be heard in winter brought me comfort, and I closed my eyes, content in my lover's arms.

"Caradel," Thranduil whispered. I hummed in response. "I…I want to know you better. I love you, you know that, and I love you because of the traits you have and because of who you are. But…"

"But what?" I asked, now alerted to the peril of having to divulge any secrets.

"I want to know why you are the way you are," he finished quickly, as if expecting a hostile response.

I sighed. "I do not speak about my heritage lightly, Thranduil."

"I understand that," he kissed my head. "But as your mate, I would like to know. You might have an embarrassing secret such as being sired by a dwarf - and it would endanger me, or the realm, or our children…"

I poked him, irritated but still laughing. "You have made your point!"

"Will you share with me?" This time his voice was low, persuasive.

I pursed my lips. "For this, you owe me a debt." He accepted willingly, and I took a breath before beginning to speak. "My father is Finrod, son of Finarfin, and the eldest brother of Galadriel. As you know, he left Valinor to accompany his friends to Middle Earth, but he left behind my mother, Amarië. We have learned about his accomplishments in our lessons – though you have probably forgotten. He died saving the man Beren by killing a were-wolf of Morgoth with his hands, and was later reincarnated for his noble deeds."

Thranduil was silent for a moment. "When were you born?"

I was hoping that he would not ask this question, and I cringed. "I…do not know. Nor I am aware of how I came to be in Middle Earth, since my mother has never set foot here. This is all the information Galadriel gave to me after I was put in her care as a babe, apparently with strict instructions from my father that I would be put to good use. My aunt has me tell a different tale of my parentage to be publicly known. And now my parents live together in Valinor. And I am here." I found that when I thought of these things, my resolve of indifference to the parents I had never known would break down.

"Why would they leave you here?"

"I do not know!" I said, frustrated. "I have been kept very much in the dark by my family! When I was younger, I resented them, and I cried often at the hurt of being abandoned. You wonder why I am so resilient, and it is because I have been pained enough for several lifetimes." Unsolved emotions broke through, and I nearly began to cry.

"Oh, my sweet," Thranduil held me tighter in his arms. "I am sorry that that I pestered you so…"

"No, you're not," I said, my voice growing slightly nasal. "But it is kind of you to apologize, all the same."

"If it makes you feel any better, I never knew my mother either," he said. "She was killed before we came to Greenwood."

"And here we both are, tragically motherless," I sighed. "Perhaps we should not have children – I would know the first thing to do!"

"You are not getting out of it so easily!" Thranduil began to tickle my ribs. "Caradel i Dinalagosseth put to her knees by the thought of children!"

Caradel, the Silent Storm. I ceased my laughter, and looked at him curiously. "Why do you call me that?"

"Everyone has since the war – did you not know?" He was genuinely surprised.

"No," I said, strangely touched. "What a title!"

"Your parents would be proud."

"I do not know what my parents would think."

"They might not be very happy about you marrying a lowly princeling from Greenwood!" Thranduil exclaimed. "They would have had greater expectations for you! A granddaughter of Finarfin warming my bed – the very thought frightens me!"

"You are not a lowly princeling, and I am not warming your bed – yet," I nuzzled his neck affectionately. "You should not act intimidated of my family – I doubt I am very much like them."

"I think that you are more like them than you think. Perhaps you will grow to be as wise, as noble, and as courageous as your father!"

"Your hopes are too high," I whispered, but he did not hear me, and the hours before we rode back to the city were spent peacefully, and much less intruding.