"It is something I have suspected for a long time. Now I am convinced. But how such a thing could be? I am unsure. I take comfort that she wanders free in her beloved forest and does not stalk the dead marshes as a houseless wraith."- Thranduil

1st March/ Gwaeron 3019, The Garden of Remembrance

Thorwen had kept her distance from Thranduil and Calenamath while he recovered from his ordeal. She visited Calenamath's chambers once with Celephinniel, but only when Thranduil was present. It warmed her heart to see the brothers healing their relationship. To hear them laughing as they discussed their youthful escapades in Doriath. It had seemed to Thorwen that the dark cloud that had grown between them had lifted and she did not want to be responsible for any future ill will.

Now she received a summons from the king to meet him in the Garden of Remembrance at dusk. It was on the far side of the Royal Gardens and Thranduil seldom went there. But as she neared the entrance, Thorwen noticed the normally locked gate was slightly ajar. Gently, she pushed against the ornate metal, which swung open with ease. Like the rest of the Royal Gardens, red torches lit the way around grass paths and well-tended flowerbeds.

"Thranduil?" her whisper was caught upon the evening breeze and carried away down the path. But she received no reply. The Garden of Remembrance housed the memorials of the Royal family. Thorwen strolled along the pathway as nocturnal flowers bloomed in the half-light, giving the garden a dream-like appearance.

Turning a corner, Thorwen came face to face with a tall and imposing statue. Its crown was identical to Thranduil's summer crown and its robes and sword left her in no doubt it was the late King Oropher. Although the statue was at least a thousand years old, there were barely any signs of wear and tear. The King had a serene expression on his face, looking neither angry nor happy as Thorwen gazed into his lifeless eyes.

At the foot of the statue, was a plaque written in tengwar with the words:

Oropher, King of Greenwood the Great. A mighty warrior and a wise king. Brutally slain by the evil forces of the Dark Lord Sauron at the Battle of Dagorlad. Loving husband of Malfinniel, lady of Doriath and Queen of Greenwood the Great. Father of Thranduil, King of Greenwood the Great, Calenamath, Prince of Greenwood the Great, Eiliannel, Princess of Greenwood the Great and Grandfather of Legolas Crown Prince of Greenwood the Great.

May his time in Mandos be brief!

There was a plinth under the statue where the waxy remnants of candles remained. One lone candle still flickered in the evening air as it kept its solitary vigil. Drawing out a beeswax candle from the robes under her cloak, she set it down on the plinth. And taking out her flints, she struck them together, raising a spark to light the wick.

She looked back up at the face of Oropher and the additional light of her candle seemed to add some resemblance of life in his face. She bowed slightly and whispered that she would do her best to serve his son and his people. When she looked up at the old king again, Thorwen could not be sure if the faint smile on his lips was a trick of the light or something else.

A snigger from behind caught her attention. Thorwen smiled but did not turn around. "I wondered where you were."

She felt Thranduil's arms around her waist and his kiss upon her head. Chuckling, Thorwen leaned into him. "I thought it was time you met the rest of the family," Thranduil breathed into her ear.

She felt his soft lips caressing her neck making her tingle with excitement.

"Do you think your father would approve?"

 Thranduil chuckled mischievously. "He would be a fool not to. It is the first day of March today. Almost the season of Spring when an Elf's mind turns to wedding and begetting." And he squeezed her playfully. 

"Then it is you have had to declare war then and we have given our word to Elrond not to wed until before Arwen."

Thranduil slowly released his grip around her waist. "Alas, if it were not for that, I would have taken you to wife long before now if you were willing."

"The first day of March? That is Aragorn's birthday he will be eighty-eight today....... if he still lives,"

"Alas, it has been weeks since we received word of Legolas and the fellowship's departure from Lothlorien. But no news is more favourable than grim news."

"Then let us be hopeful. Perhaps Mithrandir has recovered and seeks them out at this very moment. I do not believe he would abandon them." Thorwen's eyes glanced at the names inscribed on the plinth. "Your mother was of golden hair?"

"Her mother was of the Vanyar, hence there is a small strain of Vanya within my bloodline."

"Where is she now?"

"After the Battle of Dagorlad, she and my sister led a company of Widows and Orphans to Mithlond before sailing into the West. They await there to be reunited with my father when he is rehoused in body.

"Did you ever consider going with them?"

"A King must serve his people. Here I remain until my people grow weary of this world. Your coming heralds a time of change. When we must choose to fade or cast our eyes westward and resist the sea longing no more. Our union will be mean the end of summer for the Woodland Realm."

Thorwen turned, looked into his eyes of sapphire, and held him close. "Do you regret loving me?"

"I would regret not loving you. Even if I had never met you. I would know it in my heart and miss you."

"But what of Lasseth? Legolas' Mother, will she go to Mandos now?"

Thranduil grew pensive and mournful. He looked up at the sky for a moment as if expecting the fell creatures to return at any moment. Then his gaze returned to Thorwen, and he smiled. "The prophecy is not yet fulfilled, Almarie. But if 'The One' wills it, a queen shall indeed walk again in the Great Green Wood." He ran his fingers through her hair and frowned. "There is more silver now."

Thorwen nodded, "Faelnith noticed that when brushing my hair. It has been like that since the Nazgul came." Thranduil nodded and arm in arm they walked further around the garden. Darkness had fallen quickly, and it was a cloudy, starless night. But the red torches bathed the garden with a warm light, even though the night air was icy cold.

"Calenamath is improving, I see," said Thorwen.

"He is much recovered, so much so, he has already left on his next mission."

Thorwen stopped in her tracks. "But you said you would never send him away again. That we must all remain together as a family."

Thranduil chuckled, "Fear not, he goes to Dale as my Emissary. They ask for my aid and we must do all we can to support our allies. I also wish to know the extent of our enemies on the eastern borders. Legolas is away, and it is not yet your duty for such a task. Besides, there is another duty I would ask of you. When you become queen, you will have responsibilities placed upon you. You will be expected to provide wise counsel to your king and be the voice of mercy and compassion in my realm. King Brand has sent the civilians of Dale to the safety of Erebor as they fear an attack is imminent. He asks the same of me for Esgaroth."

"Of course, if our allies are defeated, the Easterlings will kill or enslave them."

"Calenamath and his company will bring them to us with the help of the barge Elves. When they arrive, it will be your duty to attend to their needs. They will be in your keeping. I know you would rather be at my side defending the realm. But as the king's sworn betrothed, I must ask this of you."

Thorwen cast her eyes down as she considered Thranduil's request. The screams and cries of women and children from long ago filled her mind. The cries of those she was too young to help then. Now she had a chance to put that right. Thorwen looked back at Thranduil's enquiring face and smiled.

"The King does me much honour. I was once a refugee at the mercy of the Elves and I shall be as gracious a host as you were to me."

Thranduil laughed heartily. "You were not always as gracious a guest."

Thorwen blushed when she remembered her early days in the Woodland realm. Those days before she grew to love the forest, its people and their king. She chuckled and cupping his cheek in her hand brought her lips to his. "Those days feel like an eternity away."

"I can assure you it is not. But perhaps that is why you were born into mortality, so that you would grow swiftly to womanhood."

He returned her kiss more passionately, but when their lips finally parted, Thorwen became aware they were being watched. Slowly, they both turned to see the white doe standing before them. Her head cocked to one side. She lowered her head as if to bow, then sprang away further up the garden path behind a statue covered in Ivy.

It was of a female Elf with a coronet upon her head. She was kneeling and embracing a Doe. Even though the nameplate was covered in ivy, Thorwen knew instantly from her face that this was Legolas's Mother, Lasseth. Thranduil gently brushed the Ivy away from the plinth. "Every time the gardeners tend to her, the ivy grows back as if she wishes to be forgotten."

"But she can never be forgotten. She gave you a son. Something I cannot do."

Thranduil looked at her with a somewhat shocked expression. "You mean we will never have children?"

"I mean, there will be no son's Melleth Nin. I have always known this, but only now do I understand."

Thranduil drew Thorwen into his embrace and she nestled in his arms. "A daughter is just as precious to me as a son."

Thorwen glanced at the plinth, which read:

Princess Lasseth of Greenwood the Great. Daughter of Silamanor, Chieftain of the House of the White Stag. Beloved Wife of King Thranduil, Beloved Mother of Prince Legolas. Cruely slain at The Battle of Dagorlad.

May she find her way to peace in Mandos.

At that moment Thorwen came to a realisation. "The White Doe, in the forest. She who guided me to this realm and has watched over us. She is the spirit of Lasseth. But I have touched her. She is no ghost."

Silent tears fell from Thranduil's pale blue eyes. "It is something I have suspected for a long time. Now I am convinced. But how such a thing could be? I am unsure. I take comfort that she wanders free in her beloved forest and does not stalk the dead marshes as a houseless wraith."

Thorwen trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. "It is Eru's doing. Such a gift is beyond the Valar. She watches over us to ensure that we fulfill the prophecy and break her curse. But she is not cursed. Eru took pity on her. My heart tells me she is in his hands."

The night grew cold, and they clung to each other. Then Thranduil drew out his own candle, placing it on the plinth. Thorwen lit it in turn and they both silently watched the dancing flame, before Thranduil to her hand and they left the garden. Closing the gate behind them.

---------------------------------------------------

10th March/ Gwaeron 3019, The Great Gates of the Elven Halls

Stars twinkled brightly in the inky black sky when Thorwen, Thranduil, Celephinniel, and her daughters gathered at the Great Gates to receive the refugees from Esgaroth. There were fewer barges than expected, packed to the brim with women, children, and the infirm. Many huddled in blankets Thorwen had arranged to be sent for the journey. She had enlisted the help of Celephinniel and her daughters to make the preparations, feeling a little awkward that she was taking the position above the king's cousin. But Celephinniel had reassured her it was only proper.

"Years I have spent preparing you. Now you are ready and my work is coming to an end."

"But I will always need your wise counsel, Celephinniel."

But Celephinniel had cast her eyes westward. "You will, for a time. Then it will be your wisdom that is sort, not mine."

Now they watched as Calenamath and his company led the Barding refugees from the jetty as the barges arrived. He carried a sleeping child in his arms, passing her to Faelnith as he approached the reception committee. His face was grim and careworn. "Orcs attacked Esgaroth as we began the evacuation," he told them. "One of those riders and its fell beast circled above the town as if commanding them from above. They burned many of the boats to cut off our escape. There was a panic and some of the women jumped into the water with their children in an attempt to get to safety. We could not recover them all."

He stroked the light brown hair of the child resting in Faelnith's arms. "This one I plucked from the water. But alas, I could not reach her mother before the current took her."

Thranduil patted his shoulder. Take comfort that you have saved her and many others this day. Esgaroth will not forget your noble deeds."

Thranduil then welcomed the weary refugees, reassuring them that they would be safe within his halls. He introduced Thorwen to them and she assured them all their needs would be met within. Slowly, the group made their way through the great gates. Some were reluctant. Fearful of the King's fearsome reputation. However, on seeing Thorwen, their fears were lifted and their hearts lightened. The Silver-eyed Queen they called her, even though she was not yet wed to Thranduil.

But as the last of the Bardings disembarked, the barges. A cry of fear went up and some pointed to the skies above. A fell creature flying high above, so high its rider could not be seen. It dropped something onto the bridge before flying away into the darkness. The terrified stragglers almost ran through the Great Gates, fearing another attack. Bregwen and her company, who were on the other side of the bridge, unsheathed their weapons in case it returned.

But once they were sure all was safe, Bregwen picked up the object lying on the bridge. With some trepidation, she handed it to Thorwen. It was a ragged brown hat. Shaking her head, Thorwen's eyes grew wide and her chest tightened with the shock. Thranduil took the hat from her. "What morgul work is this?"

Thorwen's expression was a mixture of anger and grief. "It is a message, Melleth nin. They have Radagast, and I fear....... they have had him for some time."