Y'all better stock up on your fluff now, because there's some bad stuff coming. But it's the weekend, and I couldn't leave you hanging with something terrible.

They rode into Lothlorien a pair cloaked in starlight and impending doom.

Horses bathed in the dim glow of a dying twilight, cloaks billowing behind them with reckless abandon, and they, solid and true, sat bareback on their mounts. And greeted, they were, by near their mirror image, parents and leaders both of the great kingdom.

Erulastiel dismounted, never taking her eyes from her parents' forms as they slowly but surely walked down the shimmering staircase, eyes searching for the thing that had been their daughter. She could feel Thranduil tensing by her side. Almost instinctively, she reached out a wrapped hand to his own, intending only to brush against his fingers. She was surprised when he grasped it like a drowning man clings to whatever land he can find.

He fears losing me, she realized. The thought weighed heavily on her as she pondered their journey.

It had been swift and true. No fell beasts had hindered their movement as they sped through the forests of Mirkwood - indeed, Erulastiel mused, it was certainly still that, no matter how many times Thranduil hissed Greenwood. Perhaps, again, it could be, she thought with a glimmer of hope. And as they raced across the great plains to her mother's lands, hardly a word passed between them as they fought the dying daylight. She mused upon the meaning of these things.

"Daughter," Celeborn spoke, his word interrupting Erulastiel's thoughts. She looked and saw her father's arms opened, beckoning her into his embrace.

She paused only slight, then broke the connection between Thranduil's fingers and her own. She was still a daughter of Lothlorien, of kings and queens, after all. Her father's embrace was warm but halting, something fearful wormed its way into the supposed joyful reunion of daughter and parents. Something wicked comes this way, or has already arrived, Erulastiel thought with a jolt of fear. She drew back from her father, requesting silent access to his memories and thoughts.

There was no barrier that fought her as she delved into his mind. She felt anger, sadness, rage, and a burst of something familiar but, now, deeply personal - death. Erulastiel wrenched away, flinging herself too violently from the memories, and nearly fell down the silver stairs.

Nearly, that is. She was caught by a pair of strong arms draped in starlight. Thranduil looked down at her, his gaze cloaked in concern and flecked with anger. And those eyes, too, knew that something terrible had come to pass.

The Lady Galadriel broke the uneasy silence.

"Welcome, daughter," her voice rushed through, a cool stream of life-bringing water. "We have much to discuss. For now, rest, for your journey was arduous, and you are weary. Tomorrow, we will discuss the marriage celebrations."

Erulastiel nodded, knowing better than to disobey her mother. Still, the elvenking behind her knew no such caution, and stepped forward to challenge the great lady of Lothlorien.

"My Lady," he began, taking on an air of respect tinged with annoyance, "Clearly, something has come to pass, something evil and wicked. Do you not suppose this happening is of more importance than a simple marriage ceremony?"

To her utter surprise, Galadriel smiled down upon Thranduil.

"King Thranduil," she responded, sadly, "The marriage ceremony is now more important than ever. Rest. All things will reveal themselves when necessary."

When Thranduil opened his mouth to speak again, Erulastiel decided enough was enough. Placing a hand around his wrist, she tugged slightly at his looming frame. While he whipped around in indignation, the look in her eyes was enough to placate him, for now. Together, they bowed to Erulastiel's parents - Thranduil, admittedly, more shallowly than she would have liked - and departed for their chambers.

Overhead, night had finally taken over the dusk. Blackness lurked at every corner of the sky, leaving no room for lingering colors of the brilliant twilight. But through the blackness, points of light broke through, stars dancing, raised in battlement against the darkness of the night.

"Your royal parents are stubborn. It will be their downfall."

Thranduil busied himself searching her chambers for wine. If the gravity of their unknown situation had not weighed so heavily on her soul, Erulastiel might have found the situation amusing. Indeed, she remembered a time, nearly a month ago, when the elvenking sought wine in her chambers. Their interaction had ended - badly, she recalled. Perhaps something could change.

"I choose to ignore your statement. Indeed, have you examined your own hardness, Thranduil?" Her words were true, but she delivered them with a smile. "Are you looking for wine?"

"Yes."

His voice, too, was tinged with both concern for their situation and amusement at recollection of their past. Thranduil turned to look at her, realizing that they had been here not long ago. He slowly walked her way with step both playful and solemn, backing her against the bed. As she lost her balance and fell against the soft covers, the elvenking knelt down in front of her. He was still massive, she realized, but less intimidating now that something of equality had passed between them. He held her hands lightly in his own and met her eyes, completely open.

"What has changed, here?"

Erulastiel understood the question. Here, physically, in this space. Here, between us. Here, in the kingdom of Lothlorien. Here, here, here. Everywhere and everyone. What has changed, here?

She shrugged and tightened her grip on his hands.

"Everything."

He nodded a silent response, but did not move, did not allow her to break the gaze. Understanding passed between them. Although their marriage was one of duty, of necessity, there could be something more. They had both felt it, had felt the energy and light pass between them. It was nothing easy. It was not a dance underneath a sunrise. It was a battle against the dying twilight. It was an everyday struggle, a thing they would never fully realize, a depth of understanding between two souls.

But everything had changed. Perhaps, somehow, the thing between them could change, too.

And this time, they met in the middle. Their kiss was passionate, both a struggle for dominance and an acceptance of their new positions with each other. Thranduil stood, forcing Erulastiel to rise with him, and she felt his hands move against the small of her back as he gently laid her down upon the covers of the bed. And then he was atop her, moving against her, mirroring her hands' discovery of his body. They sought something bigger, something more, something beyond what had happened to them both.

But he broke away, breathing heavily, his forehead resting against her own.

"Everything," he whispered, his voice light and airy against her lips.

He laid a soft kiss upon her forehead and moved to lay beside her, gathering her frame against his own. They slept underneath the stars that fought the darkness. And there was the impending doom that cloaked their futures, true. But tonight, tonight was theirs, and perhaps they would create something that would draw the dawn.