"Who are you to tell me where I do and do not belong?" - Thorwen.

15th March/Gwaeron, 3017, The Woodland Realm.

The Winter months passed without further incident. Now March had come and with it the first flowers of spring. Thranduil and Thorwen embraced within their refuge of stones. It had been difficult pretending nothing had changed between them for fear their enemies would retaliate. "You are sure no one followed you here."

Thorwen shook her head. "Celephinniel awaits me in the Orchard. Everyone thinks I am with her."

Thranduil sighed with relief. He had come earlier in the day to avoid suspicion. But knew it was only a matter of time before the Silvan Brotherhood discovered their secret. It was time to take action. And with the news he had for Thorwen, he hoped she would agree to his plan. Thranduil drew out a scroll from his riding tunic and handed it to her. "I have received word from Lord Elrond."

Thorwen slowly took the scroll from him and traced her fingers along the opened seal. She unrolled it, and he watched with anticipation as her eyes scanned the parchment. As expected, an elegant smile formed on her rosy lips and she squealed with delight. the soft sunlight catching her eyes as she looked up at him. "He gives his blessing!" And she flung her arms around him, almost dropping the scroll in the process.

Thranduil chuckled and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Yes, but read the rest of the scroll."

Thorwen continued, her face becoming more sober. "He says we cannot wed until Arwen weds Aragorn. And that Aragorn has the right to set his own conditions."

"But we can plight our troth at least, and he has sent another scroll for Aragorn's attention. Lord Elrond's blessing carries much weight in our favour, Melleth Nin."

"If only I was of age, then none of this would matter."

"I am afraid it would. You are the heir of the potential king of Gondor. The adopted sister of his future bride. Who you wed matters greatly."

"But we do not know if Aragorn will even come here. I have not seen him since I was a child."

"And I have news on that, too. The Beornings have sent word that Aragorn is en route to us at this very moment. He is bringing a prisoner to be given into our keeping. The creature Gollum. Gandalf is also on his way to question the creature. While they are here, we shall take the opportunity to hold our betrothal feast."

"Of course, but what of the Silvan Brotherhood? They have still not been exposed."

"And they will remain hidden unless we draw them out. If we publicly declare our love, they are likely to retaliate, and my most trusted warriors will be ready for them. If you are willing, of course. I would not wish to put such a plan in place without your consent."

Thorwen frowned the way she always did when deep in thought. Then the corners of her mouth slowly broke into a smile and she chuckled slightly. "At least we will be able to live openly, no more secret meetings."

"Oh, I rather like meeting like this, Melleth Nin." He drew her close, his fingers gently guiding her face to his. As their lips touched, he could feel the power of her Fea. Stronger than anything he had ever experienced before. He wondered how such a being could be contained within her slender frame. The time had come for them to part came all too soon. After one last lingering kiss, Thorwen reluctantly pulled away from him and returned to where Calithiliel was waiting. "Almárie!" he called. "Will you get word to your brother? To attend the feast!!"

Thorwen turned with a concerned look on her face. "I have not heard from him since Dale!"

"Then I will send scouts to Rhosgobel, make sure all is well."

Thorwen smiled, then with the flick of her cloak and the swish of her braid, she mounted Calithiliel and rode off toward the Orchard. Leaving Thranduil alone.

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20th March/Gwaeron, 3017, The Throne room, Elven Halls.

Thorwen stood beside Legolas as the King and Aragorn exchanged pleasantries. Aragorn was with a masked apprentice who was dragging Gollum on a chain. He looked wearier than Thorwen remembered. His face was gaunt and his hair flecked with grey. The years he had spent searching for the creature had taken its toll. The creature was pale, pitiful, and stank of fish. Its skin had a slimy appearance and greasy strands of hair stuck to its face. It shrieked loudly, but the apprentice silenced it with a hard yank of its chain. Till it looked up at the Dais and saw Thorwen.

"The pretty precious is here. Yes, yes, it is. See how she shines? The Master likes shiny things."

"Silence worm!" said the apprentice as he gave Gollum another hard yank.

"No, please, not again. It hurts, it hurts." He looked at Thorwen with the most pitiful expression. "Pretty Precious! Mercy please, Pretty Precious!"

Thranduil rose from his throne and stood beside her. "Lady Thorwen, do not be fooled by this creature's cries. If I had not promised to keep it safe, its head would hang with pride of place among my father's trophies. The creature wailed even more at the thought of losing its head. But Thranduil commanded that they take the creature to the cells and ensure it received good care, at least until Mithrandir had finished with him.

The guards led Gollum away. His howls echoing around the Great Chamber. Thranduil turned his attention to his guests. "My attendants will show you to your chamber. But we did not expect you to be bringing a companion."

"This is Rodon; Halbarad sent him to me with news from the north. I am needed there after I have rested. He shall serve as my squire while we are here." Rodon, Thorwen's ears pricked up at the name. On Aragorn's command, Rodon lowered his hood, uncovered his face and bowed low. Thorwen realised with delight that it was indeed her childhood companion. He had now grown into a tall and handsome youth. She grinned at him. "Rodon, welcome. It is good to see you again."

Thranduil turned to her, frowning. "You are acquainted?"

"Why yes! Rodon's parents served my Lord father and mother. He saved my life when Duincar was attacked and was my childhood companion in Rivendell."

Thranduil turned back to Rodon with a broad smile on his face. "You are most welcome indeed then, young Rodon." Thranduil then informed Aragorn that Lord Elrond had sent him word that Gandalf was en route to Mirkwood. "He also sends you this scroll." He quickly glanced at Thorwen giving her a half smile before producing it from his robes. Aragorn carefully read its contents.

His eyes grew wide and his ashen face crimson. Slowly, he raised his eyes, looking straight at Thorwen. His face showed no emotion, but his cold grey eyes revealed his fury. "I see congratulations are in order, Anberenien," he hissed. Thorwen smiled nervously, disquieted by his reaction.

Rodon stood beside him, a little confused by the exchange, but remained silent. Aragorn's eyes turned back to the King. "King Thranduil, with your permission, I would speak with Anberenien in private. But I am weary at present. I must rest and give this... joyous news some thought." He bowed low and Thranduil signalled for attendants to escort him and Rodon to their guest quarters.

Thranduil beamed seemly without concern. He looked back at Thorwen, half smiling. "That was hopeful. He did not react as badly as I thought he would."

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21st March/Gwaeron, 3017, Thorwen's chamber, Elven Halls.

Thorwen and Aragorn sat opposite each other in the parlour, silently drinking tea. Aragorn looked refreshed after his night of rest and a set of clean clothes. Thorwen had sent both Eressil and Golviel to the kitchens on an errand so that they would not be out of earshot for this very private conversation.

Aragorn broke the silence first with small talk of the goings on in Rivendell. That Arwen had returned to her father and that she longed to meet Thorwen in person. But she knew he was only trying to delay the subject he had really that was pressing on his mind. Thorwen sipped her tea as she maintained an air of calm. Though she was nervous about what he had to say.

"When did you last see them?" she casually asked.

Aragorn breathed in and smiled. Thorwen could tell he was thinking of Arwen. "I saw them about this time last year on my way to search for the creature. I cannot tell you how much of a relief it is to be rid of him." Aragorn paused for a moment, his face becoming serious. He put down his goblet and looked Thorwen straight in the eye. "This betrothal. Thranduil is not pressuring you to accept his suit, is he?"

Thorwen drew herself up and inhaled with indigence. She had expected Aragorn to get straight to the point, and he had not disappointed her. "You know me well enough to know I will not be pressured into anything. I love Thranduil and no Gondorian Prince is going to change my mind." She noticed a slight glint in Aragorn's eye, though he remained stoic.

"You were always so insistent you would never wed."

"I said I would never wed a man. Thranduil is no man!"

Aragorn smirked. "True Anberenien. Even Lord Elrond agrees that the match is prudent. But as your kinsman and a mortal who is also betrothed to an Elf. I must counsel you on your choice. You must understand there will be consequences. Arwen is the Half-Elven and has accepted mortality in order for us to wed. But Thranduil has no mortal blood in his veins. He does not have that choice."

He took Thorwen's hands, his voice softening. "You too were raised among Elves. It is only natural that you should become fond of them. But Anberenien, you are mortal, you do not belong here. The Elves are leaving Middle Earth, all of them. Even the most stubborn of Wood Elves will eventually turn their eyes westward and seek out the havens. Few will truly reject the sea longing and endure the fade, Thranduil included. You cannot go with him. We mortals are forbidden to enter the undying lands."

Thorwen pulled her hands away, her nostrils flared with defiance. "Who are you to tell me where I do and do not belong? I have barely seen you since I was a child in Imladris, and Thranduil has sworn to remain with me all my days on Middle Earth!"

"That is a comfort, at least. I do not doubt he will stand by his promises. As for who I am. Need I remind you not only am I your kinsman, but your chieftain! You at least need my consent for this match, despite Lord Elrond's blessing. And I have the right to lay conditions of my own."

Thorwen got to her feet. "I will neither need your blessing nor consent when I am of age!"

"You are my Heir Anberenien! Who you wed matters! Not only to me and Lord Elrond, but to the Realm!"

"We don't even have a realm, Aragorn! We are exiles! Our people are reduced to living among the shadows!"

The both of them were now standing, glaring at each other with the same furious expression. The corner of Aragorn's lip rose slightly as he sneered. "You doubt my resolve, Anberenien?"

Thorwen regained her composure. She did not wish to argue with Aragorn and it was taking all of her resolve not to expose her Will to him. "No Aragorn, but I fear you doubt mine. I may appear little more than a girl to you. But I have endured much more than other girls of my age, even those in my position. I know my mind."

Aragorn shook his head and sniggered. "If it were not for your dark hair and bright eyes, I would have taken you for Gruinith. Your grandmother is alive and well within you. I feel her scolding presence. Perhaps Elrond's blessing is led by some foresight I am blinded to. But Elves only wed once and Thranduil has been wed before. This union can only be temporary. Even if he remains at your side for all your days. When you pass from this world, his first wife awaits him in the undying lands. He will return to her and you will be forever sundered from him, as will any children you have together. For they will be mortal too."

Thorwen wished she could tell him the truth. But her heart told her Aragorn was not yet ready for such news. The thought of birthing children was certainly something she had not considered. No one had ever spoken of such things to her except her grandmother, who had explained that her moon blood meant she could have children.

"Children are the result of any union, Anberenien. Yours are unlikely to have any claim on this realm. Legolas is Thranduil's heir. But any male child you birth will have a claim on Arnor. And that means I have a vested interest in their raising."

"Any child I birth will be raised in a royal court, and what if I do not have sons?"

"Well, a grandson then. You cannot claim the throne of Arnor in your own right. The Dunedain will never accept a ruling queen. Your husband would normally rule in your name. But if you are to wed Thranduil, that will complicate matters."

Thorwen resumed her seat and downed the rest of her tea. She could not understand why the Dunedain would not accept Thranduil. He was an experienced king and the Dunedain of the North were Elf friends. But Aragorn explained that Arnor and Gondor were realms of men.

"As Elrond said, I have the right as your chieftain to lay any conditions on you regarding this match. And I shall give my consent and blessing. However, should all we hope for come to be, and I claim my rightful place on the throne of Gondor! You and your husband shall act as regents of Arnor and see to its restoration. Until its first king from the line of your lord father comes of age. All male heirs of Gondor and Arnor must be raised in the royal household at Minas Tirith as Lord Elrond fostered me. It would have been the same if you had agreed to wed a Gondorian noble. A child destined to rule in the reunited kingdom must be raised in the household of the High King."