I dreamt of a darkness covering the forest. At first, it was an infection that ate trees from the inside until they convoluted and became grotesque. I saw animals become feral, with frenzied glints in their eyes as they fought and killed each other with no cause. I also saw Amon Lanc crumble, diseased and dying trees, overgrown and smothering the hewn stones where we had once made our home. Then the sun darkened from above, and no longer did light filter through the thick foliage. A manic laugh filled my ears, and I was jolted to consciousness, my heart beating wildly.

"Thranduil!" I hissed. He was nowhere to be seen, and I leapt from bed, pulling on a dressing gown to cover myself, and marched from our bedchamber. He was not in any of our other living quarters, and I continued my search to other parts of the palace. I finally found him outside the front gates, a still and solitary figure facing the forest as the moonlight streamed through the leaves and touched his silver robes. He did not turn as I approached.

"I am assuming, since you walk with purpose, that you have had the same dreams as I," he spoke in the suffocating silence.

"What is happening?" I demanded, standing in front of him with my hands on my hips. He finally broke his gaze from the tree line to look at me with…what? Pity? Sorrow?

"The forest is under attack," he whispered. "It has been, since before we left Amon Lanc. I can see dark figures destroying and corrupting, and I have been using all of my strength to combat them."

"Why have you not told anyone?" I asked, fury rising. "Why do you keep this a secret? Could not I, or the council, or any of our people help you to fight, or ease the burden of your kingship?"

"It is my duty to protect our people," Thranduil said, brows creasing. "There is little anyone can do, save the king of the forest. The gifts I have are not shared."

I fumed, stamping my foot. "And I am not as light-minded as you think I am! I can help! You cannot battle Sauron alone – and if you think you can, you are a fool!"

He gave me a sharp look. "I did not mention the name of Sauron."

"No, you did not," I said, jutting my chin in definance. "Aiwendil did. He was the man looking for you when we first came to these mountains. He was sent by the Valar, along with others of his kind, to fight against Sauron and to see to his permanent demise."

"And you accuse me of keeping secrets," Thranduil drawled, voice cold. "Fortunately I know of this wizard's existence by other means, as he keeps house in the south of the forest. Though I do not know why you did not confide in me sooner."

"Because I was worried, and frightened. It was so near the birth of our sons, I did not want to add stress to either of our shoulders."

Thranduil turned from me then, and returned his gaze to the trees. "You are my dearest love, Caradel," he sighed, at long last. "I worry only for your welfare and that of our sons. It is becoming more difficult for me to dispel the evil, and I do not know what to do. You have dreamt of the darkness, which means it is getting stronger, and I feel as if I am weakening. Rest often escapes me. I am at a loss."

My heart surged, and I reached out and grasped his hands tightly, from where they were clenched together behind his back. "You are not at a loss," I insisted. "Share this burden. I can help – and don't you forbid it on account of my safety. No-one is safe if you cannot perform your duties."

He smiled at me then, the light in his eyes almost as bright as it had been when we married. "You are optimistic almost to the point of exasperation," he said. "I do not know what anyone can do, but we will experiment. You are right that the danger is shared by all."

"Which is why all should help to circumvent it," I pointed out.

He planted a kiss on my forehead. "Let us return to bed, my little schemer."

"Luckily I only scheme for what is best," I wound my arm through his as we passed through the gates, and the echoes of our laughter filled the halls.

Legolas and I became nearly attached at the hip over the coming years. I taught him how to use many different weapons (though not without trepidation), and took him with me on rounds to visit watch posts. It was in the starlight, and high in the trees, removed from guards and escorts that I whispered to him of life outside the forest. I told him numerous tales of our ancestors, including my father. I did not, however, inform him of our direct relation to the mythic hero, and I ignored the ugly feelings that twisted my insides when I thought of my heritage.

There were also many hours that we spent under the sun, shooting arrows and sparring. I felt conflicted over teaching Legolas such skills – I, more than anyone, understood the benefit of preparedness for danger, but the thought of my young son being in such a situation might have driven me mad if I entertained said thought. But I gritted my teeth and corrected his stances, and did not begrudge when I got whacked by a practice sword.

One evening, after a long day of combat training at a watch post in the northern reaches of the forest, I saw that Legolas was emitting a glint in his eye that was not entirely wholesome. I knew then that the grimness of sword fighting and archery had taken over his light spirit, and it frightened me.

"We might take a break," I suggested, trying to disguise the depth of my dread. "What do you say for taking a few days at home?"

Legolas shrugged his broadening shoulders as he packed away his knives. "Whatever you wish, Mother." He avoided my gaze.

I turned on my heel, nodding to one of the escorts that Thranduil always sent with us. "We will depart at dusk."

We arrived at the city just in time for the autumnal equinox. Word had evidently reached the other half of our family that we were on our way, as Thranduil and Belegorn waited for us at the front gate. It had been about three months since we had last been home, and the sight of my husband and eldest son always made me joyous. The king, still as tall as he had been in his youth, lifted me from my horse and swung me around before kissing me soundly.

"Spare us!" Belegorn hooted, arm around his brother. I pulled away from Thranduil and gaped at this new good-naturedness. "Come, brother," he steered Legolas towards the front halls. "Let us abandon this revolting scene and search out some wine! I've convinced the cook to let us sample some for the feast tonight." They disappeared into the mountain, and I remained speechless.

"Do not fret – the cooks have strict orders to water down the wine. Also," Thranduil continued in explanation to my astonishment. "I promised Belegorn that the next time you mean to leave, he would take Legolas's place. He is quite excited. I do think he loathes me for what I put him through."

"That would not surprise me," I said, unlacing my pack from the saddle before we made our own way through the gate. "We hated your father for our lessons."

"I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am right," I teased. "You should know by now that I am rarely not."

"I hope you are not worn from your latest tour," Thranduil changed the subject. "I want you by my side for the feast tonight – these blasted parties are horrendously unbearable without your company."

We arrived at our living quarters. Our sons were nowhere in sight, but I did not expect them to be with wine as the alternative option. I made way to our bedchamber and threw my pack on the bed, stretching languidly before going to the doors carved into the side of the mountain that led to a balcony – a luxury I had insisted on when the palace had been under construction. Thranduil followed me and together we gazed into the forest. It always seemed to be on fire at this time of year as the leaves morphed into oranges and reds and yellows. A cool breeze met us, and I breathed deeply.

"It is always so peaceful here," I commented, clasping my husband's hands in mine.

"Peace does not come easily," he whispered back. I turned to him.

"We have been closely monitoring the borders of the forest," I said, knowing that Thranduil had been waiting anxiously for this report. "There has not been anything foul trying to enter. I also took a swift tour to Amon Lanc. The guards at the closest watch post are frightened of what now dwells there."

"What did you tell them?"

"To be vigilant, and that we were searching for solutions apart from open war against a nameless fear."

Thranduil nodded. "That is well."

I sighed. "Can we discuss this later? I have ached for your presence – I wish now for it to just be us, without our duties."

He grinned at me. "As you wish, my queen."