The elves had made a makeshift camp about five miles north of the city by sundown. The more industrious had set to cooking on open flames and constructing temporary huts for the few bedridden and children, but most others wandered the forest nearby, looking confused as to their circumstances and murmuring speculations to each other in soft voices.

I tended to Thranduil from the back of the wagon, which I do not doubt delayed his healing. The fever had broken during the night, but his color still did not return and he would not take anything other than tea, despite my nagging.

"Where will we go?" I moaned in despair, trying to ignore the catching glances of those milling around us. I knew that they wanted to know the king's plan, and to have a destination to soothe their minds, but there was none, and further, I was not prepared to lead anyone anywhere.

Thranduil grasped my hand, tighter than normal. "I have been considering the same question," he said. "I believe that we will be safe in the mountains to the north."

"The Grey Mountains? But those do not lie within Greenwood!"

"No, my love. The Black Mountains of the forest, near the river."

I considered it. The area to which the king was referring was far north enough to avoid the darkness that had seeped into the forest from the south, at least temporarily. And mountains were very defensible. No doubt that our new location would deter even friendly visitors, but Thranduil seemed to detest visitors of any sort anyway, so he would at least be pleased for that.

"We could build our city within the hills," Thranduil continued. "I spoke with a few dwarves during the war, I was quite interested in their isolated city that lies within Caradhas. I believe there is wisdom in imitating their lifestyle. Doriath was built similarly as well."

I glared at him. "I believe there is wisdom in attracting friends and allies that we may discourage foes."

"And on that, we will never see eye to eye. Go and spread the word that we set forth for the mountains."

The days spent migrating through the forest to the mountains grated on my nerves. By the evening of the second day, I delegated all the tasks that I had been trying to do to the members of the council so that I could spend my time at the side of the king. Thranduil was improving, but still traveled in the wagon while most others walked or rode. Once I had ceased my queenly responsibilities, the contractions that wracked my body stopped as well, and I was able to walk comfortably, and the exercise felt wonderful in the crisp wintry air. The day we arrived at the foot of the mountains, the first flakes of winter were beginning to make their way through the thick foliage of the trees.

"We have arrived," I reached into the wagon and grasped Thranduil's hand. He had been resting, but jolted to alertness at my touch.

"How does it look?" he asked, struggling to pull himself up. I lent him my arm as I answered.

"A bit dreary," I said, scrutinizing the area. "I suppose that would be because no-one has lived here before. Our people will make it pleasant."

"Hmm," Thranduil took in the sight as well. "It will do well enough. I fancy having the mountains to protect us when evil comes."

"Be wary with such optimism of our future," I warned. "I would not want others to hear and take it to heart."

He grinned at me, nearly as cheeky as he had been before his illness, and my heart could have broken at the difference.

We were able to have rooms in the mountains to move into before the first snow stayed on the forest floor. I, for one, was grateful. I expected my sons to arrive on Midwinter's, and did not fancy giving birth in a tent or underneath a wagon.

I was sweeping our new bedroom (admittedly for the fourth time that day), when I heard a soft "Ahem!" from behind me.

A man was standing in the doorway – old and grey and unlike any other I had seen since the War. My mouth fell open, and to dispel any awkwardness at my rudeness, the man spoke.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said, bowing low before straightening to look me in the eye. "But I…" He stopped and squinted at me, as if his eyesight was failing. Then he brightened, looking joyful. "My dear, daughter of Finrod! I did not expect to see thee sweeping a bedchamber in a mountain!" He shuffled over, throwing his carved walking stick onto the floor, and embraced me tightly around the middle. "And blessed to carry life!" He placed his withered hands on my belly in concentration, and then looked up at me happily. "Two males. Strong, and one will help to save this world, I believe, though I do not know which…" He cocked his head to the side as if listening to an imaginary voice, and then stepped away from me, bowing again.

"You obviously know of my identity, but I haven't the honor of knowing yours," I said, as dignified as allowed by the circumstances.

"I am known as Aiwendil," Another bow. "Chosen by the Valar Yavanna to aid in the permanent destruction of all evil."

"Ah," I said, not any less confused.

"Pardon my manners," the man continued. "But I knew thou before thou was sent to this unholy land! Thy mother is a dear friend of mind, and I was present when…"

I grew cold. "That's very well," I said stiffly. "But that woman is unknown here, so that title gives little credence to strangers."

It was Aiwendil's turn for surprise. "Thy bitterness is apparent! Does thou not knowest the reasons thou art here, and thy parents in Valinor?"

"No, I do not," I said. I sat wearily on the only available surface, a stiff backed chair, and tried to remain regal as I moved my hips to sit comfortably. "You have a different purpose for visiting, I assume."

"Ah, yes," he fumbled around for a moment before sitting cross-legged on the floor, flopping the tails of his coat behind him like a pair of enormous wings. "I came here to meet with the king, but he is unavailable at the moment, so it was suggested by a guard that I meet the queen." He leaned in closer to me with his bright gaze. "My cousins and I are one in purpose. We must know if thy people will aid us in the destruction of all evil."

"The king maintains a policy of protecting our people from the evil of the world outside the forest by isolation rather than rash action," I spoke in monotone. "Though I disagree with him politically, as his wife I support the wisdom of his ideals. We will not go to war, but remain on the side of light of truth." I sighed at my own speech. "If you could make him see that there is more wisdom is fighting together..." I stopped in confusion. "What evil, might I ask? Sauron is long defeated, so they say, and the only attacks we have heard of have been minor and far from here."

"So they say? They know nothing," Aiwendil said. "And I do not believe that the necessity of leaving your city on a hill was because of a distaste of the architecture?"

"Thranduil will not take up arms again, whether or not evil has a name," I said.

"The king knows that Sauron lives, and that he will return," the man contradicted. "That is why he protects thee and thy people so diligently."

We were silent while I considered this information. "Thank you for seeing me," I said finally, standing laboriously. "I will speak to the king of your message."

"My lady," Aiwendil stumbled to his feet, and then took my hands in his once more. "Thou art wise as thy father. Let us hope thy courage matches his as well." A final bow, and the man picked up his staff and with a swirl of his muddy cloak, disappeared through the doorway.

Cryptic nonsense, I muttered to myself, returning to my chore. Biddy old crackpot. Come here and talk of my parents and expect to be warmly welcomed! He knows what they did…the…

"Caradel?"

I jumped at the voice, and turned to see Thranduil a few paces behind me, looking worried.

"You look unwell," he said.

"So do you," I snapped, walking over to peer into his face. The bruises around his eyes remained. "You are still ill. I told you not to set watch-posts today."

"You could not have done it, and yet it had to be done," Thranduil bent down and kissed the tip of my nose. "Fortunately I know now to take your nagging as a sign of your love for my being. Now listen to my own nagging: set down the broom and sit your rump in that chair. I will sweep for you."

"No need," I collapsed into the chair once more. "I have already swept this floor five times."

He raised his eyebrows at me but did not comment as he set the broom against the wall. "Did you see a strange looking man?" he asked, changing the subject. "I was told he was looking for me, but I have not seen even a trace of him."

I thought of Aiwendil's words, of my parents, of evil, and of Thranduil knowing the evil. "I have seen no-one of the sort," I lied.

"Ah. Perhaps he will return tomorrow."

"Perhaps." I looked around the room, and wished for a window so that I could brood properly while Thranduil reported to me of his activities that day.