The sun was setting through the open doors to the balcony, chill autumn air flowing into the bedchamber and a few crackley orange leaves scuttering across the floor. One crunched under Thranduil's purposeful step, and he released me, whirling around to face me with his ferocious stare.

"What has possessed you?"

Remarkably, his words were calm, which I imagined were far from what he was truly feeling. I pulled my sleeve down, smoothing the wrinkles and flicking bits of dust from the fabric. "Nothing has possessed me," I matched him for serenity, lifting my chin in defiance. "Perhaps this is simply the first manifestation of my true spirit."

"No. My wife would never put her life in danger."

"That is ridiculous. I have fought before."

"Only fights that you had the barest chance of winning!" Thranduil breathed deeply through his nose, and there was a tick in his cheek. "If you are intent on this, you will die."

"I certainly am intent," I said. "I made a vow. I cannot break it, even if I wanted to."

"A foolish move. You were once calculated, now you are as rash as Belegorn was."

Deep annoyance ran through me. To bring up our son at a time like this! "I am rash?" I asked. "You could not take your place as your father's heir after his death at Dagorlad, for the grief you felt overwhelmed your thinking. I may be rash, but I am not incompetent."

"Incompetent?" Thranduil's voice rose like a dragon hurtling itself into the sky, reaching dangerous levels. "I certainly did not waste away, not moving or thinking for two years after my father's death! I distinctly remember coddling you when you could not take care of yourself."

"Pshaw. We all have our moments."

"You are quick to brush off your past pain."

"It is in my nature."

"Stop it!" Thranduil cried, and a brief loss of control over his features showed an intense desperation, and it hurt me to see my husband in such a state. I quieted my tempest. "We will solve nothing by blaming the other for our circumstances," he said in a low voice.

"You are right," I said. "And I must apologize to you, for both my words earlier as well as my believed to be poorly conceived vow at the council."

The king sighed heavily, and held out his arms to me. I entered his embrace, taking my time to memorize every detail of him. The soft brush of his hair against my cheek, the gentle rise and fall of his breast as he breathed, the silky robes that smoothed across my face. And his scent - his beautiful smell of pine and sage. Regret for causing him pain increased, and I realized that by my actions I was likely condemning both of us to loneliness for a great many days, and possibly years. I tilted my head back to look at him. "Thranduil, I could no longer sit in a fancy chair and wish the world's troubles away. I have feared Dol Guldur since I first perceived the evil years ago. I do not want to be frightened any more! I have swam through the great pain of Belegorn's demise, and now I feel as if I wish to cope with my other fears as well. Besides, if the queen of the forest cannot guard it properly, she hasn't reason to be queen of it anyway. I suppose I shall dispel the Presence, or -" I cut off abruptly. Though the other option was already sinking deeply in my belly, I did not want to worry Thranduil further. The look on his face said that I did not fool him, however.

"I am aware of my own limitations, Caradel," he said. "I know I cannot change this. And I am sorry for that. I suppose my own part in this event is over."

"You are invited to join me," I chirped. "With your command and support the likelihood of success would multiply dramatically!"

An indulgent sort of smile crossed his face. "I could not do that, dear one. It would stretch our resources too thinly."

"You will lend me soldiers, then?"

"Lend? That would imply that you will be in a position to return them."

I shrugged. "It is quite possible that the outcome will not differ whether I have a guard or an army behind me. I shall go alone."

"Nonsense. I have hope enough to spare fifty."

I felt as though my path was clearly laid before me. A dark road, perilous at my destination, and perhaps one that has been before my feet for longer than I knew. Rest evaded me, and my thoughts were filled with questions about both my past and my future. I wondered about my father, whose presence seemed to constantly surround me, as our people had taken to bowing low before me instead of simple nods, and there were murmurs of Caradel Finrodien. I thought it tacky, but there was hope in the eyes of those to spoke it. Hope, perhaps, that a legend of old would deliver them from the menaces that threatened the forest.

But I was no legend. And the confidence I had in my character and abilities diminished by day.

"Mother!"

I had been sharpening my sword in my bedchamber, it having been transformed into an armory as I prepared these final days. Mentally preparing myself to march had brought my dulled mind to a honed edge, and I jumped and nearly cut myself as Legolas burst into the room. "Glory, Legolas! What a racket!" I cried, but I hurriedly put my task away to embrace him. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Father sent for me," he said. "Are you truly leaving in three days' time?"

"Indeed," I said, motioning for him to sit. I picked up my sword again, using long, measured strokes to hone the edge. "I am positive you have heard the gossip, of course."

"I did not want to believe it," Legolas said in a low voice. Startled at his obvious unhappiness, I stared at him.

"I shall return," I said cheerily. "Then you might have to find something else to do besides chase spiders around, assuming that when the seed of darkness is destroyed, the fruit will pass also."

"I am happy to chase spiders if it means that you and Father are safe."

This was turning far too solemn for my taste, and I sighed. "Legolas, I do not know if you are aware of this, but you and your father are incredibly similar. While you have many wonderful qualities, you are prone to be overprotective and crushingly loyal. The world is not black and white as it may seem. I have had too many experiences that cannot be catalogued in my mind as either good or bad. Sometimes our options are neither good nor bad, but choose we must."

"Do you not feel that what you are doing is the right thing to do, then?"

I smiled wryly at him. "My other option is to sit here and do nothing. And I have chosen that for many long years, and it has brought me nothing. It is simply time for me to try another path."

Legolas sat back in his seat, looking intently at me as he folded his hands carefully in his lap. "Then I will join you."

"Beg pardon?"

"You have called for volunteers to accompany you, and I am volunteering."

"Certainly not! You have other duties."

"Is that the only reason you can conjure?" His challenge was unconcealed, and my grip on my sword tightened somewhat.

"The mission will be incredibly dangerous; I would take risk your life so. And it will pacify Father if he knows that at least part of his family is safe."

"So you may risk your own life on such a dangerous mission?"

"So that I may keep you safe!" The sharpening stone fell from my grasp and fell to the floor with a clatter, and I rose from my chair to pace in my agitation. "You may not believe what I say or even understand my personal sentiments, but the truth remains that I love you and your father so dearly that I feel it a necessity to ensure your continued health, whether it is by my life or death. You will not accompany me because that would completely undermine the mission! You would not be safe if you were anywhere near that foul fortress." He opened his mouth to protest, looking decidedly angry from my adamant refusal, but I cut him off. "This is not a debate, Legolas. You must accept my decision, both as your mother and your queen."

He stared at the sharpened sword in my clenched fist to the snarl that curled my lips. My breast heaved with impassioned breaths, and for the mixture of fear and despair that grew across his face I felt a brief flash of regret. But my mind was made, and my words spoken. I turned and grabbed my sheath from a side table, shoving my sword into it with a swish. I heard Legolas stir behind me, and his next words were so quiet I thought for a moment I imagined them. "I wish I could have been as special to you as Belegorn was."

"Of all the absurdity -"

"Good-bye, Mother."

I was left gaping at his retreating back as he stood abruptly and left the room, the door swinging behind him. As soon as it shut, it was pushed open again and Thranduil entered. He saw my expression and his lips pursed. "He was not successful, then?" he asked in a quiet voice, shutting the door and bolting it.

"Did you put him up to it?" I asked in a clipped tone, placing my sword upright next to my polished and prepared armor.

"Not in so many words. But I do find it quite simple to plant ideas where I need them…"

I uncorked a bottle of wine, and not bothering with a glass, drank deeply. "I do not quite see how I am the fool in this," I commented. "I am not quite so low to turn to a youth to accomplish my own ends."

"I want you to understand what you are sacrificing, Caradel. There are still ages left in this world, it is ridiculous to give up years of life for a passing evil."

"It has not yet passed," I said. "I am not confident that it will."

Silence wrapped around us, the flickering light of the fire reflecting in his pale face. Immobile he stood, and still as a pond concealing a deadly predator. He sighed, and the vision was broken. "I came to ask if you would like to eat in the hall tonight," he said.

"Yes, I would," I said, and I took his arm. "On this night, I do not want to be alone."