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Third Age: 2572

370 years before Thorin’s quest
Tauriel leaned over the rail of her balcony, craning her neck to see the gate. Her sharp eyes easily picked out her brother's platinum hair as soon as he stepped out, leading the rest of the patrol out. She watched them until the last quiver vanished behind the ancient trees of the Woodland Realm.Being the younger of the royal elflings, she had few duties to bother with. Her Father never noticed if she slipped away, as she had moments before in order to watch her brother enter the woods. No one would look for her for hours, at least. Now was her chance.Making sure there was no one who could be watching, she took a few steps back before running into a leap that carried her over the balcony and through the air until her feet landed on the wide bough of a tree. Even the smallest boughs that branched out from the trunk were wider than her, so she felt no fear as she lightly scaled to the ground. Once her feet touched the leaf-covered earth, she broke into a run, sprinting into the woods. It was an easy enough path, she’d taken it enough to avoid the routes that she knew Legolas led the guard along. As she drew near her destination, she began to hear a low roar in the distance.Tauriel could see the fallen tree that marked the end of her path; gathering her strength, she leapt upon it. Running to the end, she flung herself from the bluff the tree protruded off of. She closed her eyes and braced herself a moment before her body hit the water. The rays of the sun pierced through the water, turning it a rich gold, with honey-colored bubbles swirling around her. Even the silvery fish that swam through the cress and reeds were of brass. She gasped for air as she broke the surface again, flinging her wet, red-brown hair out of her eyes. Smiling as the warm sun drifted through the trees, Tauriel calmly drifted to the shore of the lake.She climbed out of the water, wringing some of it from her auburn hair and lilac gown. She kicked off her leather boots and collapsed onto a large, sun-kissed stone, basking in the feeling of being free. For once, no one had any control over her.As she rested, she began to hear someone approaching. She smiled again, only one person with such an anxious gait would come here. Tauriel sat up as Radagast the Brown emerged from the forest."Faerelon! I should’ve expected to find you here," He cried. Faerelon, she had been named by her father, Spirit of the River, for she was indeed as wild and untamable as the enchanted river the elves of Greenwood so revered, for it protected their realm. Tauriel was the name given by her mother, who had died so many hundreds of years ago. Tauriel and her name were the last remembrance to her family and the kingdom of Queen Elenathiel. Radagast continued, "How has your brother fared?""Very well," She said with a smile. "Ada's councilors say he will make a great king one day, though he tells me he dreads the time when he must take up the throne." She was quiet for a moment. "He says the kingdom would be safer under the rule of another." She shook the thought away and shrugged her shoulders. "Adar says he must be king one day whether he wishes it or not." Her eyes drifted back to the water of the lake.Radagast felt his heart sink as he saw the girl so melancholy. Thranduil had pushed his children away for over a thousand years, since the death of their mother. Elenathiel had been captured by orcs near the Misty Mountains, and taken to their stronghold of Gundabad. Thranduil had led a charge, but she was dead by the time the orcs had abandoned the mountain fortress. Her death, so soon after the deaths of his father and brother, left the king a bitter and broken elf. He never allowed his children to leave the realm, save rare occasions under his own guard.Tauriel had grown resentful of her father, who seemed to only care about her if she went against orders, so she became sly, sneaking away at every turn, teaching herself to fight, eavesdropping on every conversation she wasn't supposed to know about. She started finding ways to escape her confinement, finding or making hidden ways into the forest, even going so far as to spend a night in Dale! Her father had been irate after her return, but she no longer cared.Radagast, not overly fond of rules either, had taken quickly to the girl, trying to be what Thranduil should be to her. Keeping her out of the worst of mischief, but encouraging her freedom-seeking."I'm leaving," she announced suddenly. "Radagast, you've been a dear friend to me, and my home will always be close to my heart, but I can no longer live away from the sun. I can no longer passively look through a clouded window at the world! I will be a part of it, whether my father wishes it or not." By the end of her speech, she was standing on the rock, arm outstretched, looking every bit the Sindarin princess she was.Radagast only placed a hand upon her shoulder. He had long anticipated this decision, but the elleth had grown as dear to his heart as if she were his own daughter, and his eyes glassed with tears when she announced her going. Only a few more quiet words passed between them before she set back out for her home, heart and head high with the intent of never again returning to the carved halls of her father after that day.
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Third Age: 2934
When Tauriel first began to slip back to her body, she felt nothing. The sense of a body assured her that she had not reached Mandos, not yet at least. How was she not dead? She certainly wanted to be. Naïvely, Tauriel thought that she might be somewhere safe, but that was soon dashed as a strong wind made her realize the numbness was caused by an overwhelming cold. Her face was to the dirt - or where dirt would be under the thickly layered snow. As the numbness began to leave her, it was replaced by a dull, bone-deep ache, and a much sharper pain in her stomach.She was able to force her arms under her, and digging her knuckles into the snow, she pushed herself up and into the wind.Remembering the power she had used before, she held out her hand as far as she dared. Tauriel tried to remember the way the magic felt as it was used, the way to tap and harness it. She could feel the magic there, just below the surface, churning through her blood and bone, waiting to be used. But she did not know how, and the magic flowed sluggishly, awkwardly; only manifesting as a sputtering flame in her palm that failed to banish any cold. Cupping both hands and clenching her teeth, she tried again. A flame the size of her pointed ear flickered, brightening her spirits a small bit.In a burst of pain-fueled determination, she let out a cry and an explosion of magic. Wings appeared at her back, and with one powerful stroke, she soared above the frozen wasteland.The death of Arda was coming.

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Third Age: 2935
His back ached from the heavy load of supplies he had recently ridded himself of. Kili enjoyed the freedom of being on his own, and these deliveries to remote mines were the best opportunity, but the heavy loads of weapons and tools were beginning to take their toll.He was pondering whether he could ask Fili to take the next run of supplies in a fortnight when he sensed something was off. The forest had grown too quiet. His hand had just begun to reach for his sword when orcs burst through the underbrush.Kili brandished the sharpened iron at them, but they didn't balk. He landed a blow on one's arm, but he knew there were too many for him to ever fight by himself. Parrying a strike from a crudely made blade, he stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet and the uneven forest ground. He watched them approach, and wondered for an instant if this was his end, when suddenly a figure cloaked in green and leather ran from the trees. Three orcs were struck dead before they could even react. The rest turned and charged at their new opponent, forgetting about the dwarf prince that had sat at the tips of their swords moments ago.The warrior's sword moved faster than he could see, a blur of deadly silver that easily cut through a dozen orcs in mere moments.Kili watched in awe as the hooded figure easily cut down the last orc. The figure sheathed their sword, before turning and walking towards where Kili lay. A small part of his mind told him to run, but his body refused to obey; not that it would have made a difference if this swift warrior meant to harm him. They crouched in front of him, extending one hand to help him and bringing the other up to their hood. As Kili took their hand, they pulled their hood down, revealing a startlingly beautiful face framed by voluminous red curls, and eyes that gazed at you as if they already knew everything about you. Her rose lips curled into a smile as she helped him to his feet.She tilted her head, bemused at his awe-struck look. "Are you alright, penneth ?" She asked. "You look as if you've never seen an elf before."He was taken aback slightly by her comment, but indeed: her ears were long and pointed, and everything about her seemed graceful, and slightly ethereal. Her hair was braided elaborately back around the top of her head, but flowed freely over her shoulders. Her figure was heavily muscled, and there was a pale scar tracing down the side of her face. He blinked, reminding himself that it was disrespectful to stare."Who are you?" He asked, releasing her hand."My name is Tauriel." She offered no other information. She turned back to the slain orcs, pulling a silver knife out of one of their necks and twirling it in her deft, slender fingers."Where are you from?" He asked suddenly, hesitantly, figuring nervously with the leather sheath on his belt."Careful," she warned with a smile. "I don't think your kinsmen would encourage you to associate with an elf.""Perhaps not," he shrugged. "But I would like to know the one who saved my life.""The tales about the stubbornness of dwarves must be true. Very well, Master Dwarf, I come from a woodland far to the east," she jested, glanced down at him. "I presume you are one of Durin's folk?"He squared his feet and straightened his back. "Prince Kili, at your service" he introduced himself, being sure to include his title, hoping that it would make some impression on the beautiful warrior. She nodded, sheathed her knife and turned to walk off. For a moment, Kili panicked; he didn't want her to leave. He barely knew her, but he wanted to."Wait!" He called out, unsure what to say to make her stay when she turned around. "Y... you said you're from far to the east. Why are you here? I thought elves rarely traveled far from their homeland."Her eyes fell to the ground, previous happiness replaced with sadness and longing. "It is true," she murmured. "Most of my kin remain within our kingdom. I-I have not seen my home in many years.""Why?" He asked. So simple a question, yet filled with so much sympathy and care. The sincerity of his tone brought an ease to the pain that the sundering had wrought in her heart.Tauriel looked up and smiled, shoving her dark feelings behind a well-practiced mask. "A great many happenings that I need not burden you with, young warrior."Kili scoffed at the name. "I am hardly young. I am nearing my 73rd year."That statement brought a true smile to her face, one that held back laughter rather than pain."What's so funny?" He demanded, smiling in spite of himself at her infectious grin."Nothing, Prince Kili," She responded. "Merely that my kind lives so much longer than yours. When I was in my 73rd year, I was scarcely considered more than a child!"Kili found himself laughing at her statement, and she quickly joined in, laughing more at themselves than any words spoken.After a few minutes, she asked, "Well, Prince Kili, where do you live?""Ered Luin," He answered.She creased her brow. "Ered Luin is nearly two hours south, penneth . What business takes you so far?""I was delivering supplies to a village another half-league north. I was just returning when these orcs ambushed me." He responded, surprised even with himself how easy it felt to speak with her. "But where are you staying? You said you were quite far from your home ' far to the east. '"Tauriel gestured around them with her hand. "I stay where I please, I need nothing and no one but this." That must be lonely , he thought, but quickly clamped down before it slipped out of his mouth, he didn't want to make her sad again. "And you seemed to think it was reckless for me to travel alone." He joked, raising an eyebrow at her.She laughed and raised her hands in a mock surrender. "I yield to thee, oh master of wit!" This caused another fit of chuckles between the two. Tauriel escorted her new friend as far as the borders of the human village bordering where his people had taken up refuge. There, she bade him farewell and disappeared into the trees, leaving him with the bittersweet wonder of if he would ever meet the mysterious elf-maid again.Her laugh and unusual demeanor clouded his head as his feet carried him home, and he scarcely noticed when he reached it."Kili," Thorin pulled him into an embrace as he approached his home. "We heard that there was an orc pack heading north. Fili was going out to go find you-" He cut himself off as he noticed the scrapes and bruises on Kili's arms and face. "You were attacked," He said in realization, gripping Kili's shoulders in his calloused hands as if he were afraid his nephew would disappear. "How did you survive? How-""I'm fine, Uncle," Kili said with a small smile. "I'm not harmed.""You could not have fought thirty orcs on your own." The creases in Thorin's brow deepened."There was..." Kili considered not telling him about Tauriel. He had never lied to his Uncle before, but he knew how much Thorin hated elves for what they had done after Smaug took Erebor. Kili sighed internally. He could never lie to his uncle. "There was an elf."Thorin stiffened at Kili's words, his eyes darkening. "An elf?""Yes, Uncle," He said. "But it was strange; she was alone, and saved my life from the orcs."Thorin paused for a moment. "Who was she?""She said her name was Tauriel, and that she came from a wood in the east, and that she had been long separated from her kin. Uncle, I know she means no harm, if she had wished ill on me, she’d need only leave me to the orcs. Yet she saved me."Thorin still had a firm frown set into his face. "Fili will accompany you on your next trip." Kili opened his mouth to protest. He finally had a true want to make the trip alone, and now he could not. "Dwalin as well." Thorin cut him off before he could speak and turned back towards the house.Again Kili was left alone, with only his thoughts for company. And for once, he didn’t know what to make of them.

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Third Age: 2572
Tauriel went to Dale first. She left early the second day of her journey, but already there were rumors spreading about the missing elf princess. She turned south, deciding it was best to avoid Erebor and the Iron Hills. Skirting the edge of the forest that was once her home, she reached the East Bight within two weeks. There, when she made camp, she threw out the map she had stolen, taking only her stolen blade and bow wherever her feet would take her. She wore a smile as bright as the moon when she turned her path to the expanses of Rhovanion, thrilled at the idea of not knowing where her destination lay. Through new experience, her elven scimitar, once clumsy and unfamiliar in her hand, now sung with power and grace as she swung it through the air, feeling more like an extension of her own body than a piece of steel.In Gondor, she achieved some merit among the rangers for aiding them in a battle. In Rohan, the Beast Lords taught her the ways of horses. She had even dared to gaze over the remnants of Dagorlad, and the Dead Marshes where so many of her people had fallen to preserve the world from Sauron.A shudder passed through her shoulders at the mere thought of the place.She traveled the southern lands of Middle Earth for nearly seven years before she dared return to the Misty Mountains. Fortunate it was that she did, for north of Lothlorien she discovered a caravan set up for the night's rest. She sat, unseen, in a tree by the encampment, wondering who they were escorting. The guards bore the emblem of Rivendell on their banners, and Lorien, the home of Celebrian, the wife of Elrond, was close at hand. Perhaps one of their sons was traveling there, as they often did.Celebrian... Tauriel had heard tell before she left that she had been captured and grievously wounded by orcs. Elrond, a skilled magical healer, had saved her body, but she carried the scars on her fëa, her soul. Tauriel pushed away any thoughts of how similar the event was to her mother's death. As her mind drifted in thought, the flap of the tent was drawn open. She looked up in time to see who stepped out, and her heart gave a great leap. Yet the graceful elleth who stepped from the tent looked miserable, and she had glimmering eyes when she walked into the mountain forest. Tauriel followed her silently through the trees, and when the maiden stopped some ways from camp behind an outcropping of rock, she gracefully alighted, and spoke in a gentle voice."Dear cousin, my heart joys to see you, yet you mourn alone in these woods. Tell me, what pain has come to the hidden valley?"Arwen looked up in surprise from the moon-bathed grass. A temporary happiness passed over her beautiful features at the sight of Tauriel, and she ran to embrace her prodigal cousin. "Tauriel! I was grieved to hear that you had left your home. Why have you gone? How is it that I find you here? Or rather, you find me."Tauriel pulled her cousin closer in her arms. "Arwen, I have longed to see you. You can see, no harm has become of me during my travels. I left to escape the tyranny by which my father ruled me, and I shall not return, not for many years!" She proclaimed. "I travel where I please now. I go in secrecy, for should my father discover me, then surely my freedom is doomed." She backed away, looking Arwen straight in the eye. "You must tell no one you have seen me here, Arwen, not even your brothers. Please, don't sentence me to be trapped again." Arwen swore silence, and the two girls sat together in the moonlight. Finally, Tauriel spoke again: "Why are you here, Arwen? What sadness has plagued you throughout our reunion? I would ease your pain, if I knew the cause."Arwen hesitated a moment before replying, worrying a lock of dark hair between her fingers as her eyes glazed in thought. "You know of the capture of my mother, and the cost it took on her..." She had to swallow the lump in her throat that grew as memories of her last discussion with her mother rose in her mind. "She cannot be healed here. She has made the choice to sail to Aman."The words were painful, but not nearly as much as the tears that traced their way down Arwen's cheeks. Tauriel wrapped an arm around her, giving her comfort and warmth as everything spilled out. "I know I should be happy that she will be healed, but I will not see her again until I myself sail; and I cannot, for something keeps me here. I am certain there is a part I must play before I must go to Aman and see her again. Why-" Tears of frustration welled in her eyes, and when she spoke again, it was far softer. "Why would Eru allow this? She did no crime. Yet..." Emotions spent, she couldn't continue. But Tauriel understood what was said and unsaid. The grief of loss was not something that elves often beheld, which deepened its blow when it did fall. And the grief for a mother is great."She will be healed. You will see her again, Arwen. When you sail, you will meet again." They sat in each other's embrace as the moon crept higher in the sky. Nothing else could be said, despite the fact that so much needed to be.At long last, Arwen let out a sigh. "I must return to my camp. Tomorrow I will reach the land of my mother's mother." She stood, hesitating for a moment, then tentatively offered her hand. "Come with me," she offered. "No harm will come to you, you will be free and safe. Please... Don't let yourself be alone."Tauriel stood, but lifted herself without help, standing tall, proud, and alone in the night. She gently placed her hand on Arwen's shoulder. "It is not just that which drives me, Arwen. My fate does not lie within a walled city, or in any place that I might find safety. My time in the wild has steeled the compass of my heart, I can feel clearly where my fate lies." A giddy look came over her face as she gazed up at the stars, imagining what her fate could be leading her to.Arwen smiled faintly, as if she’d already known the answer. “As can I.” She sighed, and pulled her cousin into another embrace, wondering if it could be their last."My Lady Arwen?" A voice called from the camp. Tauriel jumped like a startled cat at the sound. With an urgency Tauriel had never seen before, Arwen gripped her shoulders. "Go." She ordered. "Fate doesn't come often, and most don't recognize it. Don't waste yours worrying about me." As she watched her cousin sprint into the darkness and heard a guard approach behind her, Arwen whispered to herself. "Return. Saes, Faerelon."

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Third Age: 2935
Kili pulled his bowstring towards his cheek. Standing as still as he possibly could, he aimed towards his quarry. His arrow flew, but only grazed the side of the deer, which began to flee. It had taken only a few steps when another arrow came from the trees and struck its neck."I assumed after last time, you would no longer wander alone in these perilous woods." A familiar, musical voice sounded from behind Kili.Tauriel silently dropped from her high perch and walked towards Kili, who had a smile spread across his face. "Lady Tauriel," he greeted. "You certainly have a talent for timing."She scoffed lightly and tossed her head at the name, despite the smile creeping upon her own lips. "I'm no noble lady, Prince Kili." Not entirely a lie. "Please, I’m simply Tauriel, many call me by that name.""Do you have others?" He asked in surprise at her odd wording. He thought that everyone was given one name, except for humans, who oftentimes had a family name as well, which sounded awfully complicated if you asked him.She laughed lightly, a silvery sound like water pouring over stones. "My mother named me Tauriel, but my father-name is Faerelon. In honor of my mother, I take the name she gave me; thus I am Tauriel of the House of Singollo." Alarm shot through her as she realized what she had let slip. Tauriel cursed herself for forgetting who she was with. Kili seemed trustworthy enough, but he was a stranger whose kind held a long feud against her family. Thankfully, Kili was young, and often slacked in his studies in favor of his sword. He paid no mind to the name. "What brings you to wander again in a dangerous forest?" She changed the subject."What brings you to wander away from your homeland, stealing game from helpless dwarves?" He countered, willing to let the topic drop if it made her uncomfortable.She gasped, putting a hand over her chest as if he had been hurt. "I come to offer my aid, and I am accused of stealing! My father was right, you dwarves are trouble!" Suddenly, Tauriel realized that, despite the fact that they had only met twice, her meetings with Kili were the only times she had laughed since she... Better to put that thought away. If some things are best not spoken of, then that shouldn't even be thought.They chatted easily as they dressed the deer together, Tauriel helping him fashion a sled to drag it back as they swapped stories on how they first learned to hunt.“I had to beg the Hunter’s Guild for years to take me on a training hunt!”She laughed. “I stole a knife after I first learned how to shoot and nearly took my eye out skinning a squirrel.”“Who taught you to shoot?”“My brother. And you? I haven’t heard of many dwarven archers.” She bit her tongue in concentration as she pulled the ties on the sled tight.Kili snorted. “My brother barely knows what end of a bow is the string. I had to learn from an old instructor who I’m sure was half blind. Do all elves learn to shoot?”“Most do when we’re young. There’s an old superstition that if they don’t, their eyes will never be as keen.” Kili couldn’t help but think that it might help his people, too. The small hunter’s guild and the few dwarrow who raised livestock often struggled to produce enough for the growing city.Again, Tauriel helped her new friend to the borders of his village, but this time she lingered within the tree line; she couldn't shake the feeling that something was different. All night the elf quietly kept guard over the houses of sleeping humans, and the entrances to the mines of the dwarves. When the moon sank into the grasp of the mountains to the west, she abandoned her post, but stayed close in the trees.
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"I don't understand why you've been acting so risky lately, Kili," Fili warned, frowning at the casual nature with which his brother treated his weapons; the way he treated everything nowadays. "It's not like you'll always have someone watching over you. Be careful once in a while!"Kili only responded with a shrug. He cast a glance over his shoulder, smirking at the irony of Fili's words. "Maybe you shouldn't smother me so much. Honestly, you're worse than Amad."Kili ignored his brother's heavy sigh and light shove to his shoulder, and casually tossed another knife into the air, watching it glint and flip before landing back in his open palm. He quickly tucked the knife away as he heard the approach of heavy boots. Both brothers straightened their backs as Thorin and Dwalin approached, still deep in conversation, with lines of worry creasing their faces. The secrecy and severity of their conversations quickly doused Kili's earlier confidence that his brother was being irrational.A party of merchants was traveling from a small kingdom in Dunland to the Blue Mountains, but the recent orc attacks had grown so frequent and violent that Thorin trusted no one but himself and his closest warriors to fend them off. It didn't help that several of the fighters who would normally take a mission such as this had been wounded in the year's attacks."Are you ready?" Thorin asked gruffly, though his eyes were filled with worry at the thought of putting his nephews in danger. Kili glanced at his brother, who solemnly nodded, prompting him to follow suit.With no other ceremony, they slung their packs over their shoulders and began the trip. They planned to be gone for a fortnight, so the city had been left in the hands of Balin and Dis, who the people had no qualms obeying, as each were perhaps even more highly thought of as their respective brothers. Though, before he had left, Thorin had been pulled aside by Dis to receive a very pointed threat of what would happen to him should anything hurt her sons.Tauriel wasn't quite sure why she had wound up following the little company. Boredom, perhaps; it wasn't the first time she had tracked a party out of mere curiosity. Possibly it was a desire to protect them in case anything should happen. Most likely, though, it was the fact that so many years of living as a princess had given her the ability to know a king when she saw one. And Thorin Oakenshield had the bearing of a proud ruler.Whatever was driving her to, she followed them, wondering what could make a king leave his people. She never suspected it might be something so dull and trivial as an escort . It was commendable, she supposed, that he was willing to protect his subjects. But surely there were better ways to do so than traveling all the way through Bree-land just to meet a dozen or so aging dwarves.While she followed them, her sharp ears were able to pick out much information about the warriors on the trip. Thorin, she could easily pick out by his bearing of royalty, and she quickly realized that the blond dwarf was Kili's brother, who they called Fili. He seemed to be more mature, more soft-spoken. The balding one, who seemed to be very close to the king, was called Dwalin, and carried two formidable axes on his back. By the time they had nearly reached the mountain, she felt as if she personally knew each of them. They were all fiercely protective of one another. And though Tauriel's Khuzdul was antiquated and rudimentary at best, she could have sworn she heard Thorin call the other dwarrow brother late one night.On the last leg of the initial journey to Dunland, the dwarves were attacked while they slept. Thorin had been on watch at the time, but was able to give only a brief shout to wake his companions as the creatures burst from the trees. The dwarves swung their weapons, but the dim light of the smoldering fire offered them no aid, and the darkness eased the fight of the orcs. But even in darkness, the sight of an orc was no match for an elf. One by one, gray-fletched arrows struck down attackers. Soon, there was only one left, fighting Thorin. Dwalin was rushing to his side when a silver dagger impaled itself in the orc's neck. Only then did they notice that someone else had joined them. Dwalin had opened his mouth to say something scathing to the elf when Kili spoke first."My lady." He bowed. The friendly shove she gave his shoulder in response was enough to bring smiles to both their faces. "Well," She pulled one of her arrows out of the neck of one orc, hoping Kili would put the others at ease. "I've now met you three times, and twice saved your life and once saved your hunt. Are you always surrounded by trouble?""Indeed, though the trouble is usually of my own making."With another smile, she turned and bowed deeply to the others in the clearing. "Tauriel, at your service." She presented herself. Those outside of her family had mostly called her Faerelon when she left, and she prayed he wouldn’t recognize her mother-name.Thorin stepped forward, glancing from the silver knife to the elf. "It seems I owe you a life-debt," He acknowledged, trying not to show how the words chafed at his pride. A life-debt. To an elf. "I thank you. I am Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain. What business do you have here?""I came across your party traveling through Eriador, and in times like these any travelers are at risk. I worried that so few would pose an easy target for any more than a dozen of these foul creatures."Thorin shared a cautious glance with Dwalin, who had been standing back with his axe in hand, happy to let someone else deal with diplomacy, but always ready to defend his king. "In light of the circumstances," Thorin began slowly. "Is there something I can offer you? Within reason, of course."Tauriel frowned at the carrion strewn about, which would soon be attracting crows. "If it's within my bounds to say, this journey is treacherous. You could use another warrior." She fiddled with her bowstring absentmindedly. "I know you distrust my kind, with good reason, but perhaps it would bring you comfort to know I have been long sundered from my kin." It was clear as day that they would sorely need her help, but just as clear was the pride in each of their bearings. Offer without insulting. For once she was grateful for those lessons she was given in her youth.The king, obviously taken aback, muttered something along the lines of You'll allow me a moment, and pulled Dwalin aside. "Thank you," Fili piped up suddenly, now that his uncle was gone. "You saved my little brother-" Kili looked quite miffed at the term little. "And now you've saved my uncle and Dwalin, and me." Thinking of himself last, she noted. A good quality.After a few long moments, Thorin returned, shifting uneasily on his feet. Dwalin still regarded her with cold caution. "I don't harbor much trust for your kind," The king began, making no effort to disguise his suspicions. "But you are right. These days grow ever darker. And you have defended my kin without asking for reward. I… will allow you to accompany us on our journey." When they finally set off, Tauriel wasn't sure whether to be pleased or concerned when the gruff Dwalin fell into stride behind her at the rear of the group."So, lass," He all but growled, but shockingly enough raised an eyebrow at her. "What really happened when you saved the lad's life?"

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Third Age: 2580
The days grew colder and darker.The Ettenmoors were behind her, and much beyond that, Rivendell. Everything Tauriel had ever known in her 2000 years could be pointed to with one hand.It was a sobering thought.75 leagues east lay the place that had killed her mother, and many others in a bid to rescue her. Best not to dwell on that. But the further she traveled, the less certain she was. Dread had started to seep into her being, corroding the courage she had held so close. Faith in a wondrous destiny no longer burned so bright.Sword gripped tight, she had been walking for two weeks, a growing anxiety not allowing her to rest. Finally though, exhaustion won out, and she collapsed at the foot of a cliff face. Drawing herself into the darkest shadow, she did her best to warm her hands without the risk of a fire. Every hiss of biting wind through stunted trees pushed her more on edge. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, so fogged it could fit no more than one thought at a time. Had that star been in the sky farther south? No, certainly not. Why were there no stars on the northern horizon? Paranoia again bested sense in her mind, and she dragged herself to her feet, forcing them to move against another wave of biting cold. This isn't safe , the last bit of reason in her brain yelled. You can barely stay on your feet, you can hardly walk. What good is this? But her numbed feet moved of their own accord, the sick force that had been guiding her for days tugged her forward. The deep pit in her gut ached, and her mind wept in anticipation.In her addled state, she didn't notice the orcs swarming over the dark hills until they had been in front of her eyes for several seconds. She drew her sword and tried to swing, but the blade grew heavier with every second, as if the tip were determined to drive itself into the dirt. They'll never know, she thought. They'll never know you died. Dead with a legacy of abandonment. The self-pity, pathetic and childish as it was, made her angry enough to lift part of the fog. Her sword swung with new vigor. But a small spark is not enough to drive away the night. The dark, starless night that swirled before her eyes. In all honesty, she could barely tell the difference between the night and unconsciousness, only that one was peaceful.

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Third Age: 2935
A week on the road and much pleading on Kili's part, which he would never admit to, slowly warmed the cold attitude of the dwarves towards Tauriel. To her credit, in Thorin's opinion, she kept her peace when he stayed as far from her as possible, and owing her a life-debt helped provide motivation for him to keep her with the group.By the time they reached the Mountain, they had become close enough to include her in their fireside discussions, asking begrudging questions as they roasted and ate the game she and Kili caught. With Thorin's permission, she used a simple glamor spell to hide the points of her ears, masquerading as a human ranger.Tauriel had skirted around Dunland during her wild flight away from home, but she was excited to see it. She’d never been inside a dwarven kingdom before, even when she’d lived only miles from Erebor. Kili, thankfully, seemed to share her enthusiasm as they wandered the marketplace together. He bounced from stall to stall, asking about everything that caught his eye. He only bought a few things, but his smile never faded, even as they sat in a quiet corner to admire his purchases.“This is the farthest I’ve ever been from home,” He explained, glancing up from the fine leather archery glove he’d gotten. “My mother worries so much. Like the moment I step out of the mountain I’m going to be surrounded by orcs.” She cocked her eyebrow, making him laugh. “Contrary to what you’ve witnessed, I’m an incredibly cautious and safe individual, as I’ve been trying to tell her.”“My father was the same. My mother died when I was very young, and after that he never wanted me to leave his sight.”Kili nodded, considering whether he should tell her for a moment. “So did my father.” Kili thought of his father the same way he thought about the gap in his mouth where he had knocked out a tooth in his 20s. It didn’t hurt, not anymore. The rest of his teeth had shifted to make the gap smaller, so it could hardly be seen. But sometimes, he couldn’t help but run his tongue over the spot where it used to be and wonder what it would be like if it was whole.“I love my family, though. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”She smiled, looking off like she could see all the way to home. “Neither would I.”•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~• Three days into their stay, Fili offered to spar with her. She hesitated a moment as she grabbed her sword."Don't worry," Fili spun his two identical blades, of an odd dwarven make that had them tapered in the opposite direction as her own. "I won't hold it against you if you lose.""Neither will I." There was no real challenge in either of their voices. His twin blades clashed against her longsword. Of course, being nearly 2 feet taller than your opponent with a sword almost as tall as him gives a distinct advantage. Within a minute, the blond heir had been tripped flat on his back, much to the amusement of his spectating little brother.After a few rounds of sparring, it seemed as though everyone was starting to loosen up. Strength accounted for a great deal in the eyes of the dwarves, and hers was beginning to win them over. A good warrior was a good warrior, dwarf or not. Some even made conversation with her out of more than politeness.Fili proved to be caring and funny underneath his reserved exterior. Dwalin never stopped being gruff, but showed how fiercely loyal he was to Thorin. Thorin himself was more of a puzzle; determined to make himself aloof, yet was quick to pull his nephews into a tight hug if he ever thought they were in danger. Kili... She wasn't quite sure if he trusted her because she saved his life, or because he was simply so young that the bitterness of the world had not yet dampened his spirits.The days in Dunland also allowed Kili to think of Tauriel. Why it was so easy to talk to her, why he desperately wanted to hear her laugh again, why no one else seemed to think of her as he did. Was he truly so different from his family? And Dwalin, too, but he counted as family. Was it truly so odd? The sound of footsteps pulled him away from his thoughts.Tauriel's hair, heavy with water, hung to her waist without the bushiness usually provided by her curls. In the evening sun, each strand seemed to be of gleaming copper. Kili pulled his eyes away before she could notice he was staring. He'd never thought an elf could be... beautiful. Yet there she was, with a crooked smile, barely tamed hair, and spatters of freckles that reminded him of sparks from a forge.She joined him on the large stone where he was sitting, turning her face towards the sunset. They would be headed back to Ered Luin soon, but now wasn't the time to think about that. They sat there, together, in the fading warmth of the day. “There’s supposed to be a fire moon tonight,” She whispered.

Five years later

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Third Age: 2941
 The bright, early-April sun beamed through the windows, though it did little to lift the somber gloom sitting heavy over the room. Fourteen dwarves and one elf, all crowded around a too-small table in Ered Luin. Tauriel had agreed to reveal her race to the others in the company, causing quite a fuss including some Khuzdul words she was glad she didn't know, but they had settled down once Thorin spoke.“Everyone here is loyal to our cause. You are the ones who answered when I called.” Thorin's tone grew more somber. "Last month, I had a meeting with Tharkûn in Bree. We have suspected for many years that the time is growing close to try and retake Erebor. Now is our chance. Our mission is stealth. Gandalf insists he has a burglar who will be able to take the Arkenstone from Smaug, should he yet live but still sleep. With the stone, we will be able to march on the Mountain. Dain's given his word." A sudden knock to the door cut him off. For a moment, everything was still. "That would be him," Thorin muttered.Dis rose to answer the door, glad to at least momentarily be rid of her brother's theatrics. Thorin was proved right as a tall head and flowing gray robes passed through the door as if summoned by the mention of his name. Some greetings of "Tharkûn," and "Gandalf," were muttered, but largely ignored as the wizard set about his business. "Is this everyone, Thorin?" A nod. "Just as well, a small group will be best to get inside the mountain without attracting attention. I have arranged our burglar, a little fellow of the Shire whose mother was a dear friend of mine. An excellent burglar, he will make; the Shirefolk are a quaint people, but quite light on their feet when they wish to be." It was only then that he seemed to notice who was next to him. "Lady Dis! Will you be accompanying us?""I'm afraid not, Gandalf," She replied, giving a sharp look at her brother when he opened his mouth to answer on her behalf. Dis was matronly and jovial with her family, but would spare no one blows from either her fists or tongue. In fact, Thorin was likely the most common recipient of her verbal lashings. "Someone has to rule here in my brother's stead.""Such a shame! A princess might prove a valuable ally in our quest."Then, a voice spoke from the other side of the room. "You already have one, Mithrandir." Tauriel tilted her head so that her face could be seen from under her hood, laughing lightly. Gandalf looked as if he had seen a ghost. "Of all those I expected to see ," He said once he was over his surprise. "The lady of Eryn Galen was not among them." His brow furrowed and his previous happiness disappeared. "You are aware, My Lady, that your father has thought you dead these past four hundred years.""That can be discussed at a later time. If you'll allow me, my King-" She glanced at Thorin, who nodded. "Now that we have gathered everyone, we cannot delay any longer. If we leave now, we may yet make it to the Mountain before the first snows fall. The journey will take less than half a year, if we make haste and can avoid harm on the road.""Where there is a road, at least," Someone snickered.Thorin nodded. "We leave at first light tomorrow if we wish to arrive at the burglar's home on time. From there we make for Bree, then over the Mountains to Erebor. Once we have the Arkenstone, we can make for Dain in the Iron Hills.""Well!" An unfamiliar dwarf with a floppy hat and an infectious grin leapt up from his seat. "It was all nice and fun discussing our impending death with ya, your majesties, but I better get some shut-eye!" Others began excusing themselves as well. A few minutes later, Gandalf and Tauriel stood behind the house, a safe distance away where no one could hear."How long have you been here?" He demanded."Five years, about.""Where have you been before then?""That's no concern of yours."Gandalf rubbed a hand over his eyes. He never failed to look the part of the concerned grandfather; not that Tauriel had known one. "I may be old, but I am no fool. Your father entrusted to me the knowledge of your family’s magic, but this... What has happened?"A dark look, the like of which Gandalf had never seen on her before, crossed over her eyes. "It is no concern of yours, Mithrandir. My power is not for you to trifle with. What is important now is restoring the throne of Erebor to Durin's line. You know as well as I that darkness is brewing. My father is our only ally in the east, if he can even be called that. Gondor's strength and nobility is all but squandered. Esgaroth is pitiful. Those of Rhun are content to stay on the other side of their sea while the rest of the world fights. Without Erebor, we don't stand a chance against the enemy.""Enemy?" Tauriel turned her head away as she realized what she had revealed. "What stirrings of the enemy have been made known to you?""Enough." Her voice was weary when she met his eyes again. "The world has changed, more than anyone knows. We face a threat worse than any you can imagine. I have spent too long doing nothing to stop it. Just this once, Mithrandir, I ask for your trust.”He held her gaze for a long time. “Then you shall have it.”

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Third Age: 2580
Tauriel didn't wake so much as become suddenly aware.She was standing in a hall of dark stone. It was spacious, but something about the sheer walls on all sides made it feel utterly claustrophobic. Perhaps a hundred paces in front of her, the hall dissolved into shadow, though there was no obvious source of light around her. The air was deathly still.Looking down at herself, she wore the same leather and steel armor she had been wearing as she passed through Arnor, no tears or scuffs to be seen. The only difference was a thick cuff of black iron wrapping from around her wrist to halfway up her forearm, cold to the touch. It wasn’t in any position to hinder her movement, but strange nonetheless. Seeing nothing else around, she went forwards, as it seemed to be the only way to go. Even stranger, the wall of shadow always stayed those hundred or so paces away. She still didn't notice any lights, but the darkened area definitively remained, retreating as she advanced. Her footsteps, usually quiet, were completely and utterly silent. The only noise was her own muffled heartbeat.At some point, she began to notice a voice, slithering around the hall, as much in her head as her ears. She stopped, looking around for the source frantically and trying to listen to what it said."Tauriel." The first word it had said clearly, loud enough in the silent hall to make her jump. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach."Tauriel; you're late." The voice hissed. It continued a moment later, sounding giddy and gleeful. "You're trapped. But if you fight, you'll be out. Now that you're here, we can finally begin." Just as quickly and strangely as it had come, the voice was gone. It had called her by her name. Whoever had brought her to this place knew who she was, and was going to "finally begin" something. Noticing her hand was shaking, she clenched it into a fist.She tried to slow her racing heart and breaths. Clearly something was going on, and that needed to be found out. She started down the hall faster, feeling jittery and exposed. She couldn’t tell if the flickerings in the corners of her eyes were actually there or a trick of her own eyes.Suddenly, so suddenly it nearly made her sick, and without any noise or accompaniment, the rest of the hall was suddenly lit. At the end, not a stone's throw away, was a looming door of heavy wood. A way somewhere, at least, if likely not a way out.The sound of snarls filled her ears as the door grew closer. The noise, even if frightful, was more comforting than the awful silence, or the awful voice.  When it was not an arm's reach from her, it swung open on its own. Beyond, there was a small room carved of red-brown stone, with several wooden racks of swords and a few shields lying discarded about. The opposite wall was only a crosshatch of iron bars, beyond which she could see beasts scuffling in an open pit of red-brown dirt and wooden walls.Scattered about the room, a handful of humans and one or two dwarves sat with hollow eyes and hands that tightened near-imperceptibly on their weapons as her gaze fell over them. On feeling vulnerable unarmed, Tauriel took a sword from the rack; a double-edged longsword made of black metal, about five feet from pommel to tip, well-balanced. Glancing back over her shoulder as she buckled the scabbard to her armor, she could see the dead eyes of the others following her.Tension crackled like lightning in the room, which had gone silent as the fighting of the beasts past the iron ceased. Everyone eyed each other suspiciously, and the newcomer even more so.A low rumble started, knocking dust loose from the stone ceiling. Metal grated on metal as the gate on the back wall rose up. The soldiers in the room stood and hefted their weapons. More growls emanated from the arena before them, different from the beasts before but no less terrifying. No use making yourself scared. Tauriel thought as she ducked under the still-rising gate, knuckles whitening around the hilt of her new blade. The arena was wide, but not any more than perhaps a few dozen yards across the largest point of the rough circle. The ceiling was a different matter. It stretched up and up, becoming lost in the shadows, perhaps leagues above. The room was lit by a wide, glowing orange stripe that ran around the circle, about 10 feet up.Of course, all this was processed within a second, because the large troll on the far side was occupying the majority of her thoughts. Eyes quickly adjusting to the brighter room, she tumbled to the side as it charged, allowing it to slam into the wood and stone wall. She had to roll again as a club came down where her head had been a half-second earlier.A quick glance back told her that the humans hadn't joined in, merely watching from the door as it slowly lowered again.Another swing came too close to taking her head off, sending her dodging again. The troll stumbled off balance as its swing missed and the weight of the club dragged it forward. Seeing an opening, she sliced her long blade across the troll's leg, knocking it further off balance.Jumping and kicking off its lowering arm, she stretched her arm as high as it would reach to drive her sword into its neck. The troll sent up a plume of dust as it collapsed.The troll’s still body was on the ground only a few moments before another door opened, one that she must not have noticed before. Orcs swarmed in, beady eyes fixed on her. Tauriel reached out to grab her sword, but felt a tug on her wrist as she did. From the cuff on her arm, which she had almost forgotten, a chain had formed. It looked misty and insubstantial, but held firm as she pulled again.To her surprise, the orcs didn't immediately kill her. They still snarled and their claw-like nails still bit into her skin, but they merely took hold of the misty chain and dragged her away from the arena where she fought. Unable to put up much of a fight after killing the troll, Tauriel followed where they led her.They followed the tunnels to a narrow cave in the wall of stone several twists and turns away from the arena. Each of the corridors were lit by the strange glowing stripe from before. They finally stopped before a narrow cave several levels down. The cave had a thick iron door at the opening, making it into a cell. A quick glance around showed the cavern was lined with such doorsTauriel allowed herself to be shoved into the cell. She could break out once they were gone and she’d recovered her strength. The door had to be flimsy, it was impossible to have a good forge and craftsmen in a place like this. The orcs probably installed it crudely, and she’d be able to get out.She had to be.

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Third Age: 2941
The Shire seemed a nice enough place, if the few halflings Tauriel saw seemed to stare a bit. Tauriel was used to being a spectacle, though; unusually tall, even for an elf, large ears, bright red hair, with a sword longer than the Shirefolk were tall, she had expected to be a bit off-putting.Staring was about the worst a hobbit would do, as Bilbo Baggins well knew. Except for Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, but they had agreed to put the spoons behind them for now, or at least until she was next in Bag End. He had to put up with a great many stares, growing up. They all said he was odd, like his mother. And while he and Belladonna both had always maintained that there was no shame in being odd, he did his best to be a respectable hobbit.He took walks around Hobbiton, grew prize-winning tomatoes, spent many a long afternoon smoking Old Toby with Hamfast Gamgee, and most importantly, he loved good food. So it was an understandable shock to him when several dwarves showed up at his smial, uninvited, and began to pillage his pantry. Four dwarves, to be precise. In his dining room. With his food. Rearranging his chairs. Pouring his ale. It was all Bilbo could do to keep from fainting when he heard the doorbell ring again."No, no, no. T-there's nobody home. If this is someone's idea of a joke-" His spluttering tirade was cut short by at least seven dwarves piling onto his mat. Though, it was hard to tell just how many there were with how much they were all squirming around trying to get out from under one another.Thus the ever-dignified Thorin Oakenshield made his entrance to Bag End. Though it was hardly noticeable, as he was trapped under Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, rendering him nearly invisible and quite flabbergasted. Behind the large pile, there was someone who answered as many questions as he raised by being there. As the rest of the dwarves righted themselves and made their way into the dining room to meet with the rest, he stood firm and blocked Gandalf from slipping away. "You seem a bit upset, my dear Bilbo.""U-upset!" Bilbo pulled Gandalf aside to avoid making a scene. "Who are these people? Why are they in my house? I told you this morning, I want nothing to do with whatever adventure you were on about." He took a deep breath to recover from the rant, ignoring how something in his heart had sank as he yet again said no to an adventure."To answer your questions, I merely volunteered your home for an urgent meeting of theirs- Ah, Faerelon, let me introduce you to our host." Gandalf ushered forward a tall red-headed woman in a long cloak who had entered with him. "This is a dear friend of mine, who I have known for much longer than you have been alive. She's part of our merry group, perhaps you might show her to the fire while the rest are getting settled?" Gandalf ducked away before anyone could argue.The woman smiled at Bilbo, looking a bit comical hunched over to avoid the rafters. “It’s nice to meet you, Mister Baggins.”“You as well, Miss Faerelon.” He was almost glad she didn’t offer a hand to shake, as her being nearly twice his size might make it awkward.“I’m called Tauriel, if you please.”“Oh, I meant no offense!”She smiled again, waving away his concern. “There was none, it’s merely an old name, and an old man set in his ways.” Gandalf peeked back around the corner with a disgruntled look. Bilbo showed her to the parlor, where she happily sat on the floor to warm her hands by the fire.After several subsequent minutes of attempting to control the loud band occupying his kitchen and dining room, he joined the woman by the fire, only to find that she had pulled down her hood to reveal an intricate crown of braids, and two tall, pointed ears. Finding out that there was an elf in his smial was hardly the most surprising of the current events, so he hardly paid any mind; though it did explain the grace with which she moved, and silence rivaling a hobbit! The only thing that itched at his mind was the thought that she looked vaguely familiar.Once everyone was finally gathered around the table to the food Bilbo had hastily prepared once he had accepted his new company, the rowdy group proved to be no more reserved when stationary.Eggs and potatoes flew, ale splashed over the floor, and his poor honey-baked ham was all but pulverized. At the very least, the ones at the head of the table had some manners. Thorin, the one with gray-streaked hair who the others had introduced as a king, which had been a rather large shock, was more effective than Bilbo himself at crowd-management.As soon as Thorin began to speak, everyone fell silent. "You all know of our quest and why we are here. All signs we have read point to this being the time for Erebor to be reclaimed. We alone cannot face the dragon, but I cannot ask the seven armies to fight this battle without the Arkenstone. Without it, they are not bound to me and I have no right to lead them into a battle such as this." Bilbo nodded along, pretending to understand just what was happening and why they were talking about facing a dragon. "Master Baggins," His head shot up. "Should you agree to join our quest, as you have been spoken highly of by Gandalf, your job will be to enter the mountain to retrieve the Arkenstone so we may rally armies to kill the beast. With our success, you will be compensated handsomely.""Hm," Bilbo gathered his wits, hoping he sounded much more confident than he felt. "And may I, um, inquire the dimensions of the 'beast?'"Bilbo most certainly did not faint. He was just exceptionally tired after receiving so many guests and he had thought that the floor looked quite comfortable. No, it had nothing at all to do with a lengthy description of the danger on their quest. And it was definitely not because of the idea of stealing from a dragon. It wasn't, now stop saying that.He woke up from his completely planned and incredibly graceful nap in his father's armchair, being handed a cup by a dwarf with very neatly braided hair and beard. Lori, Bori, something like that. There were a lot of names to learn at once.Bilbo gripped the tea as tightly as his shaking fingers would allow. "I'll be alright! I just... Need to sit quietly for a moment..."Trying to calm down, and pointedly ignoring Gandalf's remark on how long he had been sitting quietly, he reached for a book. He realized, once he had it, that it was one of the books that he couldn't read. It had belonged to his mother, and was written in an elven dialect neither of them had understood, despite her knowing decent Sindarin. Perhaps he could ask that elf, Tauriel, to translate it. Still, he paged through it and gazed at the pictures. Suddenly, one caught his eye.It was a portrait, and though the drawn hair was smoother than the wild curls he had seen moments before, it was obviously the face of the elf in the company. And while he couldn’t read most of the words, the characters under the portrait spelled out the name Gandalf had said, Faerelon. Well now he would need to ask her about it, with his blasted curiosity.As the night grew darker, the company separated into the spare rooms, spreading out bedrolls to account for the small number of beds. Still too full of nervous energy to sleep, Bilbo paced between his room and study. It'll be so simple. You're happy here, just tell them that and send them on their way. The voice in his head sounded remarkably like his father.Send them on their way into so much danger. He'd only known these people for a few hours, but the thought of anyone facing that danger alone while he sat with his tomatoes and pipeweed made his stomach twist. Gandalf had said the quest wouldn't succeed without him taking the Arkenstone, whatever that was. It was nice to feel needed, but no, he couldn't go. That was his decision. He looked at the contract again."Sleepless night?" As his head shot up, he spotted the elf hunched in the doorframe. "I could hear you pacing." He nearly took offense to that, hobbits were quite quiet creatures, but it was difficult to be angry with his mind so otherwise occupied.Bilbo looked back to the parchment and swallowed, though his throat was dry. "This quest," He started. "Is it worth it?""How do you define worth?" Her eyes were watching the fire, unnaturally reflective. "This journey is fierce. I will not lie to you, it may take your life. Do you weigh benefits and risks? Or do you see a need and rise to aid?" She squatted to be eye-level with Bilbo. "This is not your fight, penneth. Nor is it mine. We are not tied to Thorin as king. If you fear this path, you may turn from it without retribution.""I mean to you. You just said yourself you owe him nothing-""I owe him a great deal. It is merely that he has my loyalty by choice, not duty."He tried not to show his irritation at being cut off. "What earns him that loyalty?"“He’s my friend. Thorin will attempt this quest without either of us, and he more than likely would without anyone else if no one had answered him. Beyond that…” A shadow crossed her face. “We’d all be at risk if someone else took the mountain. Thorin deserves to be king, yes; but I help him because if I don't,” She chuckled darkly. “I'm afraid our fate is rich orcs for neighbors.”When he didn't respond, she turned to go. “Wait!” He flinched at the loudness of his own voice, stark against the night though he hadn't raised it much. He snatched the book from before from where it was on his desk, pointing to the picture he had found. "I... Wanted to ask you about this. It's you, isn't it? Why are you in this?"Tauriel's fists clenched as the fire crackled louder and a look of bitter regret clouded her eyes. "You'll see soon enough, I suppose." She raised an eyebrow and baited. "If you come with us."He scoffed and slid a mark into the book. She could try the mysterious act, but he had lived in Hobbiton long enough to know when someone was dodging a topic. Especially when they looked like a faunt caught swiping a carrot from the neighbor's garden. Nevertheless, he bid her goodnight and let it drop.One more glance at the blank line. You'll never forgive yourself. The voice sounded like his mother, now.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
As was his habit, Bilbo woke early the next morning, the conversation still ringing in his ears. Making his way to the kitchen, he carefully tread past the rooms where the company was sleeping.He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw the Exiled King gazing out of his kitchen window. Right, guests. It had been a long time since anyone else had stood in Bilbo’s kitchen. Thorin glanced over at him when he cleared his throat, but otherwise made no move.Deciding against a painfully awkward one-sided conversation, he bustled around gathering things for breakfast, occasionally enlisting Thorin's help. "Hold this bowl, please," "Could you grab me those eggs?" It was terribly domestic, though Bilbo tried his best not to think about it. He had plenty of troubles without fantasizing about a king, thank you.The rest of the company were awoken shortly by the smell of eggs and ham and baked goods from the kitchen. Most of them eagerly dug into the ham and bacon piled high on several platters, save for one with a wild beard who grunted gratefully as Bilbo handed him a platter of oat cakes. Thorin murmured his quiet thanks, with what might pass as a hint of a smile, as he sat with his family to eat. The elf looked delighted when Bilbo set down a large bowl of fresh rolls and breads with a dish of butter.The company had let out a cheer when Balin announced that Bilbo was officially a member, startling him a bit but warming his heart nonetheless.Bofur, the hatted dwarf, seemed content to chat Bilbo's ear off on the way to the Green Dragon, where they evidently had stabled several ponies."That's me brother over there, Bombur. I live with him 'n Bifur, that's our cousin, over in the Blue Mountains. Though, I do expect if we don't die on this, I may jus' get my own place. Mahal knows 'e and Asta need the room! I tell ya, he's got three little pebbles already, and one on the way!" Bofur seemed to swell with pride. "Incredible, really. 'N he's a great Da to the little ones.""It's Asta who does most of the work with them." Bombur had slowed a bit to join their conversation. "'M at the kitchen's most o' the day, and she's taking care o' the little ones. I wanted to stay wif her to help wif the next one, but she said she'd cuff me good 'n sound if I missed a chance like this or acted like she needed any help."Bilbo chuckled a little at that; Asta sounded quite like dear Bell Gamgee. "She sounds lovely.""Aye, she is." Bombur was practically glowing. "Met her almost 70 years ago, married not much later. When our Brenna came, Asta handled the birth better than some of the healers!""She's handled the rest well, too," Bofur piped in again. "Takes a strong lady t' have so many, and they might even have more after this!" He clapped his brother on the shoulder."Is four an uncommon number for dwarves?" Hobbits, of course, seemed to know no limit to family sizes, but he knew men generally had about 2.Bofur scratched his head. "Aye, I'd say most who have children have 'bout two or three, but most dams suffer terribly with them. 'S why Bombur's so lucky, his missus is strong as they come. How many do hobbits have? If y’don't mind me asking.”"Well, it depends on the family really. My father had four siblings, but my mother had eleven.""ELEVEN?" Bofur's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Your grandmother had TWELVE children?!"Bofur looked like he was going into shock. Thankfully, Bilbo was spared from a more uncomfortable conversation when they arrived at the Green Dragon. Each of the company had a pony, and Bilbo was shown to another, thankfully smaller than the rest, though still as tall as him at the shoulders. He tried to remember how he had seen the others get on.He tried to fit his foot into the stirrup, but from such an angle it would have been difficult even if it had been made for a hobbit, and not a dwarf. "Not much of a rider?" It was the elf. Tauriel! That was her name. He briefly wondered how she was going to travel with them, being too large for a pony."Not really much need to, in the Shire." He laughed nervously, shifting his foot which now felt grossly oversized looking at the stirrups.She hummed to herself for a moment. All of a sudden, his feet left the ground and he was being placed on the pony. A tiny squeak escaped his lips. Tauriel smiled a bit and walked off. "Everything will be alright in your absence?"Bilbo glanced up at Thorin, who had circled his own pony back around. "I asked Hamfast to take care of Bag End. He's a good friend of mine. Knows to keep the Sackville-Bagginses out." They may have put the spoons behind them but he would always trust Lobelia about as far as he could throw her. He would miss Hamfast greatly, if this quest was truly as long as they said. Well, he'd think about that later. He'd barely left, no time yet for homesickness. He cleared his throat. "I left a note to my cousin asking him to manage the estate until my return. Everything should be alright.""I'm glad to hear it," Thorin offered, before looking with a half-smile at how awkwardly Bilbo was attempting to grip the reins, and how low the stirrups hung under his hairy feet. "That one's calm, she'll just follow the one in front of her. You don't need to worry."Bilbo might have told him that being told not to worry was no comfort, but he was preoccupied with worrying about falling off a pony which looked even taller when you were riding it.A sharp whistle pulled his attention away. As he looked up, he saw Tauriel watching the road, where suddenly-The largest horse he had ever seen came trotting up from by the river. A gleaming bay coat, flowing mane, as tall as an ox, though Tauriel easily swung on with no saddle or bridle. Bilbo swallowed. This would be stranger than he had thought.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
Bilbo missed Bree. He hadn't minded sleeping on a bedroll the first two nights in the Shire, but one last taste of homeliness before leaving for the wilderness had made him realize what he was getting himself into. Thankfully, he had been able to procure a thick cloak in the town, as the late-spring rains were rolling in with full force.With the light but steady rain, the dwarf with the large red beard was struggling to light a fire. He’d just turned to offer to help when he saw the fire burst to life, and Tauriel drew her hand back into her cloak.“Impatient?” One of the dwarves teased. She shoved his shoulder in return.“The rain hits me first.”By the time Bilbo had managed to pull the bedroll from his pack, everyone else was gathered around the fire, chatting as Bombur cooked. Looking at the company, still strangers really if he was sticking to conventional ways of thinking, he doubted he would be able to fall asleep even after the rain passed. At some point, though, after they had all eaten and most of the dwarves had fallen asleep, he faintly heard a song in a low, feminine voice.As he listened, the weariness of the day washed over him, pulling him towards sleep before he even knew what happened. Contrary to some rumors, elves do sleep. Eyes open or shut is a matter of personal preference. The Calaquendi in particular tended to sleep with open eyes; her father had done so as long as she could remember, a habit he said came from his father. She herself, who preferred peaceful darkness, kept her eyes shut tight, which likely spared her companions from an awful fright. At least, from one fright. The visions that haunted her dreams were not shut out as easily as light.Bilbo awoke to an ear-splitting screech. He sat up, trying to blink the blurriness out of his eyes when he saw the source.Tauriel stumbled around where she had rested on the roots of a tree, eyes wide and unfocused. She seemed to be murmuring to herself. It sounded like Sindarin, but the words were strange and slurred together.A few of the dwarves had risen to try to reach out for her, but she turned and fled into the Old Forest. To Bilbo's shock, the company seemed mostly unperturbed with this. Some frowned in the direction she had run, but most began packing their bedrolls, as the sun was on the rise."What was that?" He asked no one in particular. "Oh, her?" Nori - that was Nori, right? - was the one to respond. No, the weather! Bilbo shot a quite angry but tragically unnoticed look at Nori. "She'll be alright. Has nightmares, y'know? Bad memories.""Of what?"Nori furrowed his brow. "We don't exactly know. Something bad, a long time ago, when she left her family. She won't talk about it, but Bifur n’ I reckoned it's something to do with her... powers.""Powers?" Bilbo asked, suddenly a bit quavery. "D'you see how she lit the fire last night? Comes right out of her hand. Something else, too. Don' know what, but I know when someone’s hidin' something.""Hm." Was all the poor little hobbit could muster. His mother had said that the rumors about elves’ mystic powers were exaggerations, bedtime stories made from small truths of their vast knowledge."She'll be back with us when we get goin' again." He cast Bilbo a sidelong glance. "Don' go mentioning it to her, alright? Tha' stuff's private. We all got stuff like that."Yes, Bilbo had been right. This was certainly going to be a much stranger quest than he had imagined.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

First Age: 52
Finisca hated ice.He had had lots of time to ponder deep thoughts whilst crossing the Helcaraxë, but that was the only one that stuck. He hated it. That damned ice, the wretched cold and ever-present danger that was the visual, physical proof of how they had abandoned their kin of Aman and been abandoned in return. It was ice that the creatures in his nightmares breathed. It was snow that was the form of his regret and shame. It was cold that ran its clawed hand down his spine as it stole sleep from him. The rest of the Noldor had chosen to settle north, to be closer to the enemy and their gems. But Finisca was through with the Noldor and the constant wars they brought with them.When a small group left to seek refuge in Doriath, he was too happy to join them. King Thingol had accepted on the condition that they forswear the Noldor, take new names, speak a new language, and live a new life.For Finisca, now Oropher, it was a gift.He took his Sindarin name and wore it as a badge of pride. Years later, he married a Sindarin Noble under the stars, and they had a son. Vigorous Spring, they called him. Thranduil. Their second son was named Aglarad, Glorious Day. More than any other of the Noldor refugees, Oropher welcomed the shunning of Noldor culture, doing his best to put from his mind the sight of the trees and the language of his people.Finisca hated ice, but the Sindar had warmth to spare.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

First Age: 467
"Thranduil. I must speak with you." The Sinda who had been speaking with Thranduil quickly departed with the approach of Thingol."Is something wrong, my king?" The young elf asked respectfully, though his heart was beating so loudly he was sure the king could hear it. "Do not take me for a fool, Thranduil," Thingol said sharply. "I know you hold love for my daughter, Arvuin. And I know she returns it." He sighed and sat on a carved bench, rubbing his hand over his crowned brow and gripping the gem on his short staff. Suddenly, the kingly facade was broken, and he looked so very tired. "Luthien... My daughter is dead, Thranduil. Dead for grief of her love, whose death I caused in my foolish quest to save her from her own love. I have lost one daughter, I cannot lose another. Nor can I bear to deny love again. You have my blessing, Thranduil. Marry Arvuin. Bring her joy. Protect her." "My Lord, I..." Thranduil trailed off. "On this great forest I swear, I will not let any harm come to Arvuin. I hold her slightest whim above any need of mine. She is, to me, greater than the gems for which my people traveled to these shores, worth more than any sum of gold or silver could convey, and greater and more beautiful than the sea and the stars." He could have gone on more, but Thingol held up a hand to silence him."You have already convinced me that you love her, I needed nothing but my eyes to see that." A dark look overtook the small mirth on the king's face. "I fear for this kingdom. Something deep in my heart tells me that a danger we cannot weather will soon come. I... have given orders to your father to lead my armies if our protection goes awry."A cold dread closed its hand over Thranduil's heart. "My Lord, surely whatever force may threaten us from Morgoth, we could stand against it."Thingol's eyes were unfocused. "I pray you are right." 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

First Age: 587
"Aglarad!" Thranduil pushed forwards, wading through bodies of elves and orcs alike. The battle was an endless tide. Attack and gain ground, retreat and lose it again. 42 years since the Valar had finally joined the fight. 42 years of constant war, of god-like beings tearing each other apart at the expense of an entire continent. All they had to show for this war was a swath of ruin along the crumbling shore of what was once Beleriand. The only semblance of hope were the snowflakes that drifted lazily from the skies, seemingly unaware of the battle raging below them. Their enemy's stronghold lay within the frozen north, and the biting cold was the only proof of their advancement.Another gust of wind nearly sent Thranduil to the ground. He looked towards his brother again, gasping in shock. Aglarad fought like a demon, using his powers to make a churning cyclone around him, throwing his enemies off their feet and into his blade.As the brothers fought towards each other, another wind stirred the air. More rhythmic, and much more powerful. Cries of alarm were taken up among the elven front."Dragons!"Fire rained down. The smell of scorched flesh stung Thranduil's nose and eyes. All he could see were wings larger than any he had imagined as the columns of flame struck down closer and closer.Thranduil looked up. A gaping, fanged mouth glowed from within. He smelled sulfur."Thranduil!"Heat burst all around him, scorching his arm and melting his flesh as he turned his head away from the dragon's breath. From above him, an agonized scream rang out.Thranduil forced open his eyes, finding with horror that only one would obey. He saw his arm first, the silver armor scorched and melted so he could not tell what was metal or skin. Then he saw what was lying next to him. He screamed as he saw the warped, melted armor of his little brother, contorted almost beyond recognition. Aglarad's face was a mass of burns and blisters, nearly exposing the bone beneath. There was no ragged breath from smoke, no begging for help, no shuddering from the pain of burns. Not even the slightest move from his little brother.Nothing but stillness.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
“Jealous?”Kili blinked and looked up at his brother. “What? No. Jealous of what?”Fili rolled his eyes. “You’ve been staring at her.”Tauriel was animatedly telling Bilbo a story by the fire. He was too far away to hear, but they were both grinning as she gestured. It was good; Bilbo had been having a hard time adjusting to being on the road with them the past few days, so it was sweet of her to reach out to him. That's why I love her, he thought distractedly as he went back to fletching his new arrows, only to drop the one he was holding as soon as he realized what he’d thought. Love… Did he love her? She was his best friend, the first person he thought of when he woke up and the last when he went to sleep, and-Oh. Looking over, he was relieved to find Fili was facing away. He wasn’t ready to confront those feelings with anyone else yet. He picked up his arrow again, focussing on the repetitive motions of fletching yellow feathers onto the shaft. Had he found his One? He hadn’t even known it was possible for a dwarf’s One to not be a dwarf. Then again, most dwarves never found their Ones. Then again, most dwarves rarely talked with anyone outside their own kind. He could imagine the ridicule he’d receive if he ever tried to pitch that idea to anyone else. He tucked the finished arrow into his quiver, taking a new one and more feathers. How would he tell people she was his One? They hadn’t even liked him being friends with Tauriel, if he started courting her- Mahal, how would he tell her? He was almost certain elves didn’t have Ones. Tauriel was always better with emotions than him, and she never acted like anything more than a friend. If he told her, and she didn’t feel the same way- What if she wouldn’t even want to be around him anymore? He couldn’t lose her. He threw down the finished arrow. No. He wouldn’t tell her. Not yet, at least. There would be plenty of time during the quest, and even more after. He would wait. 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
The first thing Tauriel noticed in her dream was the cold. Second was the burning pain that constricted her head. Third was the man standing beside her.He had long, red hair, and orange eyes that glowed like embers when he smiled at her. His armor looked like it was made of molten lava, glowing and dimming in intricate patterns. He casually leaned against the arm of the throne she sat on, hand just brushing hers.Then, she took a moment to look down at herself. She had smooth black hair that fell down to her waist, and her own armor was crafted out of pure darkness and shadow. Gritting her teeth through another wave of pain, she turned her head and gazed into the polished stone next to the throne, and into a face that wasn’t hers.Her eyes were full of power and hatred, like two burning pricks of unlight. Under her eyes shone a dazzling white smile twisted with so much malevolence it scared her beyond anything she’d seen before. On her head sat a tall, black crown; and in the crown, three points of light shone more brilliantly than the purest silver steel. As she watched, the light grew brighter until it obliterated the room and her dream.When Tauriel awoke, the cold from her dream clung to her bones. The sun was not entirely over the horizon yet, tinting everything with lilac and peach rays. The night’s mist was beginning to burn out with the growing light, and the chill of her dream faded to a memory. The company was still sleeping soundly, thankfully. She didn’t need the embarrassment of waking them two nights in a row. Bifur was on watch, his back to her as he carved a piece of wood. She stood and walked to the edge of the clearing where they had stayed the night, and lept into a tree, large compared to those around it, but only a sapling to the pillars of Mirkwood. Yet the familiarity of scaling through branches was enough to make her heart ache with longing for her home. She sighed as she reached the rays of light breaking through the branches. Letting the sun warm her, she traced the nearby ridge of mountains with her eyes. Rivendell was close by. For the first time in 400 years, she was close to her family again. The idea of potentially seeing any of them again was terrifying, she was unsure if they’d even want to hear any explanations of why she’d been gone. She wasn’t sure if she had any explanations to give. The late spring sun was unusually warm as they walked that day, shining on the mountains looming on the horizon. She remembered many trips with her father and brother across the Misty Mountains to visit her family, and faintly, even one with her mother.As much as Tauriel wanted to, she couldn’t very well avoid her family for the rest of time. Even if she could avoid them for the remainder of the quest, time would soon run thin if she didn’t act, and tell them... What would she tell them? She didn’t know if she could tell them the truth, it still felt too fresh, too painful, and she doubted they’d even believe her. But what lie would they believe? She even looked different. If she managed to explain why she’d stayed away for so long, how would she explain her hair being red and curlier? It had been that way since she’d woken up in Forochel almost seven years ago, but she’d never truly known why. Just thinking of the icy wasteland made the scar on her stomach ache. Her disappearance, her time… there, had been her own secret. She’d never even told Kili in detail. Equal parts shameful and painful, it sat in her chest like a weight she couldn’t be free of.She was still musing to herself halfway through dinner when Fili and Kili came running back into camp, trying to talk while gasping for breath. “Tr- Bilbo-” Fili managed to get out. Thorin took his arms to steady him. “Where’s Bilbo? What happened?” “Trolls!” Kili shouted, grabbing his sword from by his bedroll.“Trolls took the ponies, and Bilbo went to investigate,” Fili continued. Thorin reached for his sword immediately, and nodded to the rest of the company. Tauriel swung her quiver over her shoulder, nocking an arrow as they followed Fili and Kili back into the woods. Kili struck first, with all of his usual bravado. “Drop him!” He shouted, only to be sent tumbling to the ground as the troll threw Bilbo at him. Tauriel leapt over their bodies as she entered the clearing, firing an arrow into the nearest troll’s shoulder. It swung at her with a roar, forcing her to roll out of the way. Once she was back on her feet at the edge of the clearing, she jumped and kicked off a tree to land on top of the troll.As soon as her feet were planted on its shoulders, she drove her knife into its neck. The troll screamed and reached up to rip her off its back and throw her to the ground. Her arrows scattered out of her quiver on impact. She rolled away as one of the trolls’ feet immediately threatened to crush her. Staggering back to her feet and regaining her breath, Tauriel noticed Dori’s sword get knocked from his grip.She sprinted towards him, dropping into a slide as she passed under the troll between them. She took Dori’s place slashing at the trolls as he fell back to retrieve his blade and darted back towards his brothers. They only fought for a few more moments when Bilbo shrieked overhead. Tauriel looked up to find him dangling from the grip of the largest troll.“Drop your blades, or I’ll squash ‘im.”Being stuffed in a sack was hardly a dignified experience, but one of the trolls kept a firm grip around Bilbo as they were all tied up, and she had no doubt it would only be too easy to crush his small form.“Wait!” Bilbo demanded, wriggling about in the troll’s grip. “Y-you’re making a mistake!”The troll held him up to his face. “What’re you goin’ on about?”Bilbo flinched back from the troll’s awful breath but continued on. “You can’t cook dwarves over an open fire like that.”“And why’s that?” Another troll demanded.“It’s the… The beards! Their beards burn, and then they’re no good to eat.” Bilbo kicked his feet back and forth in the open air. “You’ll have to braise them to avoid it.”“We don’t need to braise them,” Said the second troll. “I’ve eaten plenty of roasted dwarf just fine.”“You ain’t the cook!” The one holding Bilbo shouted, cuffing the other with his free hand.“Will you quit? Dawn’s coming soon. I want to get them eaten, I don’t care how,” The third troll finally cut in. The first troll swung Bilbo around wildly as he gestured. “You have no appreciation for-” He was quickly cut off.“The dawn will take you all!” Everyone turned to see Gandalf standing on the boulder at the edge of the clearing. Raising his staff, he struck the rock and cleaved it in two, flooding the clearing with the golden sunrise. The trolls hissed and screamed as the sun’s first rays hit their skin. They staggered back in a feeble attempt to escape, but they all finally solidified. The three statues stood silently as if they had been there for a hundred years.“You have wonderful timing,” Tauriel remarked to the wizard. Everyone quickly went about cutting each other loose from their sacks, now that the threat was gone. “Ahem,” The company looked up at Bilbo, still held in one of the troll’s stone hands. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for some assistance?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2737

Tauriel didn’t know how long she had been there. It was like her internal clock had frozen. She couldn’t sense days or months the way she could before, the only proof time was even passing was food occasionally being pushed through a slot in the door and when she was brought up to fight in the arenas. But however long she had been there, she had learned about where she was.

The upper levels were made of a dusty red sandstone, which grew darker and harder the deeper you went. Her cell was of gray-orange rock, with an iron door that refused to bend or budge no matter how she pushed and pulled. The arena where she fought men, orcs, and trolls was so choked with red dust from the chalky rock that it would become hard to breathe after a fight.

There was a noise from the corridor, interrupting her thoughts. A man was shouting, though the words were muffled by the door. It was the first time she’d heard anything other than orcs on this level of the tunnels.

Suddenly, the door to her cell flew open. Tauriel scarcely had time to register the writhing body being thrown in before it was slammed shut again. Eyes already long adjusted to the encompassing dark, she sought out whoever had joined her. He cried out as her fingers grazed him, causing her to jerk back.

“Shh,” She tried to silence his quiet wimpers. “They are gone. You’re safe, for the moment.” Slowly, he looked up at her. He had nut-brown hair, with garbs of gray cloth and leather, and a cloak of forest green. On his left arm was a cuff matching her own.

“Where am I?” He asked, out of breath.

“In the cells.”

“The cells of where? What kingdom does this foul place belong to?” He weakly demanded, sitting up against the wall with her help.

She shifted uneasily. “That is more difficult to explain. Where do you hail from?” She asked.

“I am a Ranger of Ithilien,” His eyes started to focus on her as they adjusted to the dark. “Where these foul beasts took me from.” He rubbed his wrists, frowning a bit as he encountered the cuff. “Though they bound and blindfolded me, and traveled for many days,” He said, wiping a dirt-caked hand over his eyes. “I am a captain under Belecthor of Gondor.”

Belecthor… The Steward she remembered had no son named Belecthor. “Belecthor, son of…?” The man gave an odd glance in the general direction of her voice, as if she should know the Steward of Gondor while living in this dark hole.

“Son of Hurin,” He added, with a mixture of pride and indignation. “Son of Hallas, son of Cirion.”

Cirion!  Word had just reached her of his stewardship when she was taken to this place. Which meant… “Ranger,” She asked suddenly. “What do they call you?”

“Thallas.”

“Tell me, Thallas…” The quaver in her voice betrayed her fear. “What is the year?”

Again he cast her a confused look. “2747, of the Third Age,” He answered.

Tauriel’s hand dropped from where it had comfortingly been resting on his arm. She fell back against the wall, letting out a shuddering breath.

“What is wrong?” He asked, leaning towards her with concern etched into his face, squinting to try to see her clearer.

“157,” She murmured.

“What?”

“157,” She repeated, wide eyes staring at the ground in shock. “I’ve been here 157 years.”

“You are elfkind!” There was no question in his gasp. His eyes had adjusted well enough that he could see her nod her head. He inched backwards; he had heard the stories of what happened to the men who strayed onto elven lands. They said that elves could read your mind and cast spells on you, that they could see you through a mile of dense forest and appear in front of you with bow drawn.

“I mean you no harm,” She said. “I am a prisoner here, just like you.”

“Who are you?” He asked. “How did an elf become imprisoned in this place?”

“I am Princess Faerelon Tauriel of Greenwood, daughter of King Thranduil,” She answered honestly after a moment’s hesitation, as if she had contemplated telling a lie. But whoever controlled this wretched place already knew who she was, so there was no suffering from honesty now. “I was attacked by orcs far to the north, above the ancient lands of Arnor. Just like you, they bound me and brought me here.” She glared at the door, the mocking bar of light under it that taunted an illusion of freedom. “Since then, I have been imprisoned here.”

He shook his head. “For an elf to be imprisoned seems strange enough, but the daughter of the King of the Woodland Realm? What business caused you to venture to Arnor? What became of your escort?”

She was silent for a moment, as she wondered whether to reveal the truth of her childish flight to a Gondorian she barely knew. Her pride eventually won. “I… became separated from my escort. During a storm that ravaged us near the Ettenmoors. Orcs attacked under the cover of rain, and brought me here.”

If Thallas could tell that she was lying, he never let on. They passed the meaningless hours in their cell by Thallas’s stories of Minas Tirith, telling daring tales that they both knew were crafted more from his humor than from truth. His brightness lightened the ambient gloom that hung over the place, bringing some small joy to her long sorrow. They became close, as close as two friends can be in their mutual hell.

Some time later, perhaps days if days even passed there, the orcs yet again came to take her to the Arena. Thallas jumped to his feet as soon as the door started to move. She pushed him behind her when the orcs stepped in, he couldn’t win a fight in his condition.

Tauriel was relieved when they went for her and not Thallas, but he didn’t seem to share the sentiment. As they took her arms, he threw a punch that glanced off the orc’s heavy armor. Tauriel could have laughed at the pitiful attempt if it weren’t for the blow he received in turn, sending blood splattering across his face as he fell. He staggered back to his feet, but she didn’t resist as the orcs seized her.

“It’s alright,” She tried to promise as she was dragged out. “I’ll come back.” She wished she could know that was the truth.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
The dwarves gagged at the scent of the horde. Tauriel wrinkled her nose in disgust as she entered, finally having collected her arrows from the fight. The stench of troll brought back several memories which she would rather forget. But the Company quickly forgot their discomfort at the sight of the gold coins littering the ground. Several of them stuffed their pockets, while a few more began burying a chest of coins and goblets. She herself slipped a handful of coins into the pouch she kept at her side. She didn’t really need the money, food and shelter were rarely scarce to those who knew the woods, but they may have to barter in the future, and the dwarves could use more. A glint caught her eye as she wandered around the surprisingly spacious cave. She turned towards the rack of swords, which Thorin had also noticed. Gandalf pulled one from the rack. The swords were elven-made, she could tell, and held an ancient, almost magnetic sort of power. She realized she was gravitating towards them when a cry of alarm came from the others waiting outside.She had to shield her eyes from the morning sun as she stepped out, but as soon as they cleared she gasped. “Radagast!”The wizard blinked a few times.“Oh, you’re back!” He paused for a moment, thinking. “There was something I meant to tell you.” He tapped his chin as a small bird buzzed around his head, before he finally noticed the other wizard. “Ah! Gandalf! I have something to tell you, too.”Gandalf held out an arm to usher them away from the Company. “Perhaps we should speak somewhere a bit more private,” He said with no room for argument. The three of them picked their way a short distance down the rocky hill. When they were far enough away to allow for privacy, Radagast gave Tauriel a long look, falling unusually serious. “The Greenwood has grown ill. Some foul darkness festers in Dol Guldur.”Tauriel’s chest felt like all the air had been squeezed out. Was it because of the Arena and what she’d done there? Had she released the darkness she’d fought so hard against onto her own people, her own family? “What have you seen?” Gandalf asked, lowering his pipe. “The one who dwells in there has power I have not seen before.” He reached into his coat and drew out a small leather-wrapped package. “Power over the dead.” The scar on Tauriel’s stomach started to ache as soon as Radagast unwrapped the leather, revealing a blade that radiated dark energy.Gandalf reached out to touch it, but pulled away. “What wielded this?”“A creature not of this realm.”A howl from the distance cut off anything else he was going to say.• ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•Tauriel realized where Gandalf was leading them as soon as they entered the grassland. She hadn’t used the secret entrance much, but her cousins had shown it to her when they were young. She fired more arrows at the pursuing orcs, shoving away the thoughts of her family. Once everyone was in the tunnel, she slid in after them, leaving the remaining orcs on the other side of the magical boundary. Dwalin was already investigating the tunnel.“The path leads out, but I cannae see the end.” He called back.“Lead on, we have no choice,” Thorin ordered, looking like he already knew where it ended, and he’d rather fight the rest of the orcs than follow the path.Tauriel shared a look with Gandalf, trying to hide her smile.They passed over a carven bridge, into an airy courtyard filled with birds flitting about overhead and music drifting down from the buildings around. Above them, on a flight of stairs, two identical dark-haired elves were approaching them. The dwarves were beginning to heft their weapons when Tauriel gave a cry of delight.“Dan! Rohi!” She ran towards them, taking four steps in a single bound and nearly tackling the two in an embrace. The elves looked quite shocked, and exchanged many hurried elvish words with her as they inspected her at arm’s length with smiles.“What is this?” Thorin’s voice cut through the moment. Tauriel rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she thought he would question his own mother if given the chance. “Thorin Oakenshield, this is Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Lord Elrond, my cousins.” She glanced back at them. “We can speak later.” She promised in Sindarin. “I’m afraid my companions are in need of food and rest.”“Of course!” The one on the right answered.“We’ll have rooms prepared,” The one on the left continued.“Ada will be back from his hunt soon. You all must join us for dinner.” There were mutterings of approval at that. Tauriel dropped back to walk with the Company as the twins led them to the guest rooms, but they were unusually quiet.“So,” Bofur piped up. “Did you grow up here?”“No,” She said. “But I visited many times.” “They don’t know?” Elladan turned around with a surprised look and a hint of his characteristic mischievous smile. “It would be a shame if Erestor were to find out about what happened in the library all those years ago,” She shot back, enjoying the way Elladan’s face dropped. Thorin scowled as she spoke.Thankfully, they reached the large guest rooms, and the Company quickly began tossing down their packs and cloaks. As the dwarves were getting settled, Tauriel heard footsteps from down the hall.The elves turned to find Lindir approaching. “My lords,” He inclined his head. “Your father has returned.”Elladan and Elrohir rushed her to his office. The entire way, her stomach flipped around like a beached fish. She didn’t entirely know why she was so scared, it was a delight to see Dan and Rohi again, but somehow confronting Elrond would make it more… real. She didn’t have anymore time to worry as the twins pushed open the door to the study and thrust her into view. Elrond’s eyes widened upon seeing her, and she twisted a corner of her tunic between her fingers, feeling very much like an elfling about to be scolded.Elrond stared blankly. Tauriel’s stomach felt like it was tying itself in a knot. After a moment, he rested his hands on her arms. “You’re alive…?” He managed. She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. He pulled her into his chest. “How?”“It’s a long story,” She said in a watery voice. Elrond laughed a bit at that.“There seems to be quite a lot of those at the moment,” He held her tighter, and she finally lost the battle to hold back her tears as Elladan and Elrohir joined in the hug.Eventually, once their tears had dried, the small family made their way to dinner, sitting together at the round table with Gandalf, Thorin, and a few other elves while the rest of the Company was shown to the long tables to eat together.During dinner, Gandalf insisted Lord Elrond look over the blades they recovered from the troll hoard. His eyebrows raised as he pulled them from their sheaths.“These are fine blades, they belonged to the King of Gondolin and a great warrior of his. I can see that they will serve you well in any trials you may face on your journeys.” Thorin accepted the praise with a nod, suspicious at how easily the elf-lord gave up two important blades. But if Tharkun could trust him, that counted for something. A small something.Just then, Thorin couldn’t help but notice the blond elf at the table. He had been lively the whole meal, telling very animated jokes and reminding him uncannily of his nephews. But as soon as Orcrist had come into conversation and been set on the table, his entire demeanor had changed. He didn’t make a single remark, didn’t even eat; just stared at the sword like it was telling him a tale from long ago.After the meal was done and most of the elves and Company had left, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the elf. “You know this sword?”The elf took so long to respond that Thorin was about to repeat himself when he spoke. “The one who once wielded it.” Seeing Thorin’s glance, he continued. “We were warriors together. Young soldiers of Gondolin, sworn to protect our king. He was very strong, and wiser still. When the Enemy sent his forces, he used that sword to slay Gothmog, lord of the Balrogs.” A flicker of pain so brief it was barely there passed across the elf’s face. “I was there to see Gothmog take his life in return. I felt myself die with him, and when true death came after, I was glad to be with him again.” Curse the riddles of elves! What did he mean, true death? The elf before him was very clearly alive.“True,” The elf said. “I am now alive. But I died then so that my princess and her family would be spared in their flight from the city that had sheltered us.” He paused for a moment. “Forgive me, you were thinking rather loudly.”Damn all elf magic. “And they survived?” Thorin held no love for elves, but he knew what it was like to be willing to lay down your life for the one you followed.A small smile graced the elf’s lips as he gestured around them. “This city was built by her grandson, whose father was no more than a small boy when they fled.”“Lord Elrond?” Thorin mused, mostly to himself.Glorfindel chuckled. “I suppose it’s difficult to imagine an elf as small, with how young you are.” Seeing Thorin’s sour expression, he laughed a bit, though it held no malice.As Thorin was trying not to throttle the elf, another thought of what he had said before clicked in his head. “The one who had this sword,” He began carefully. “You were intended?”Another chuckle, but this one was painful. Glorfindel pulled a finely forged flower brooch from a pocket in his tunic, close to his heart. The petals were silver, with gold veins running through, and a large, beautiful sapphire in the center. “I was going to give him this when I asked him. I never had the chance while we lived. Within the Halls, I was able to ask him to be mine. And when the Valar called me to return here, he gave it back to me as a remembrance.”Before he even knew what he was doing, Thorin was holding the hilt of the sword out to the warrior. “A dwarf offering up his sword?” Glorfindel mused, then placed his hand on the pommel and pushed it away. “He would want it in the hands of one such as you.” With that, he drained the last wine from his glass and left. 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
Thorin, predictably, spent much of the stay in Rivendell brooding and reminding the company of the untrustworthiness of elves. At almost every opportunity, Kili ducked away with Tauriel to wander the city and breathe outside of the watchful eyes of his uncle. He knew Thorin meant well, but it was an uncomfortable reminder that his entire kind was meant to hate his One. “The elves here don’t speak like you,” Kili noted absentmindedly, brushing his hand over a few books. He didn’t care much for sitting still and reading, but the library ensured some privacy for conversation, at least while most of Rivendell was bustling around out in the midday heat.“Hm? No, they don’t.” For a moment he wondered if he had offended her by bringing up her accent, but she didn’t seem bothered. “My parents spoke a more… traditional dialect from Doriath.”“What do they speak here?”“A bit of everything, really. Lord Elrond created a city where everyone puts aside their differences. A rare thing, among elves.” She said it so casually, Kili couldn’t help but wonder how many conflicts among elves had been more or less disregarded by his people. Elves were elves mostly, not that he’d ever spent enough time on his studies to learn whether or not dwarves recorded such things.“And Lord Elrond is your uncle?” He thought back to the two elves they’d met the previous day as he sat down on one of the curved benches against the wall.“A cousin technically, a few times removed. But for all intents, yes. His daughter Arwen was my closest friend when we were young.” She paused for a moment. “I had hoped she’d be here.” Arwen was the last person she’d truly spoken to before being captured and brought to the Arena, it would’ve felt fitting to see her again as she returned to her old life.He noticed the nostalgic way she looked over the library. “Have you missed being here?” She nodded. “It’s been a very long time,” She murmured, eyes soft as her hands lovingly ghosted over the spines of ancient tomes.“How long?” He asked. He loved how she never thought his questions were odd.She hesitated for a moment. “The better part of a thousand years.” The words tumbled out of her mouth with a rushed laugh. Kili did his best to hide his surprise, she had told them of her age, but it was easy to forget when they were joking together. “Yes, Kili; to you, I suppose I am quite old. Yet to elves I am still so young.” She gazed up out the window, a smile upon her lips but lacking in her eyes. “Should the world ever choose to be kind to me, I should live some many thousands more years and sail west to be with my kin, and sate the longing in my heart.”Despite the words she said, her voice held no bitterness towards the world and people who had wronged her; only a quiet, profound sorrow for the life she knew in her heart she would never see.“If you all live for thousands of years,” he asked suddenly, as a new thought happened into his head. The only elven cities he knew of were Rivendell, Mirkwood, and the port city near the Blue Mountains. “Then why are there so few of you? I thought elves didn’t have a One.”“It’s true,” She gracefully sank to the bench next to him. “We are not like you dwarves, who only love once in your life; yet we are not like men, who may love so fleetingly and passionately. An elf may love many times, but each love blooms softly and slowly. But beyond that, elven children are seldom given to us...” She trailed off for a moment, straying through her thoughts. His heart clenched. That was the confirmation, then. He wasn’t her One. She didn’t love him like that. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. If her phrasing was right, she wasn’t able to love him like that yet. It was too soon, and he wouldn’t press her. Her friendship meant everything to him, and if she could love him… It would be worth waiting until the end of time. Which, considering she was an elf, could be possible.“What would your age be like for a dwarf?” He asked, wondering if his friend was truly so old. Was it wrong to feel love for her?She merely shook her head. “There’s no equivalent, Kili. When you age, you age towards old age and death. When an elf ages, it is only away from birth. Could you compare the age of an ocean to the growth of a tree? Though I am young, I am no child. I was 1500 years old when Durin’s Bane destroyed Moria. But...” She hesitated. “They treat me perhaps a bit older than your brother.”Kili chuckled. “I can’t imagine having to wait that long to be taken seriously.”“If you asked my father, I’m sure he’d tell you I still shouldn’t be taken seriously.” Her smile turned a bit pained at the mention of her family. He nudged her side gently. She shook her head, dispelling the negative thoughts. “Have you seen the fountains yet?” She changed the subject.He raised an eyebrow, smiling a bit mischievously. “Why?”Her eyes sparkled, making his heart quicken. “My cousins, brother, and I used to play in them as children. No need to be taken too seriously.”
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
That afternoon, Tauriel ended up wandering the city with Elrond. Laugher was drifting on the wind from one of the training courtyards as they passed by.Elladan and Elrohir were sparring with a young human boy. She never spent enough time around humans to judge their ages, but he was already less than a head shorter than the twins, with a lanky frame that was beginning to fill out. They all stood up as she and Elrond approached, grinning and laughing amongst themselves.“This is Estel,” Elladan introduced as he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.“Our new brother,” Elrohir continued. She turned to Elrond and cocked an eyebrow. “Collecting strays?” He smiled back. “I suppose you’re familiar with the habit.” He responded evenly. “That young dwarf follows you around like a duckling- Ai!” Estel took advantage of Elladan’s distraction to throw him to the ground. Elrohir laughed, leaving his twin to his fate. “Why is he here?” Tauriel asked when they had moved on out of earshot, leaving the twins and the boy to spar in the fading light. She winced as she realized it might sound accusatory, but he didn’t seem to mind. Elrond sighed. He turned a corner, leading them into the room that contained the shards of Narsil, held upon fine fabric by a statue. Elrond stared at the fragments like they were speaking to him. “He is of the Dunedain,” He finally answered.That explained the dark hair and gray eyes, uncannily similar to Elrond’s own. “Can his people not care for him?” The rangers may be few in number, but the lands west of the Misty Mountains would be perilous without them.“Not enough.” Elrond finally looked up from the sword. “My brother’s line has been in danger many times. But 15 years ago, it nearly ended completely.” He glanced at the door, reassuring himself that they were alone, though their elven ears would have heard any approach. “The boy is Elendil’s last heir, though he does not know it yet. We thought it would be best to raise him here, with family.”15 years… Not too long before she had escaped the Arena. It made terrible sense that the Enemy would try to end Elendil’s line. She supposed being related to Elrond made Estel her family, too.“Will you tell him?”“When he’s ready. He still has far to grow.” “He should stay young while he can,” Tauriel half-joked. She truly hoped that Estel truly would be afforded the luxury of growing up before he was thrust into the dangers of the world. Elrond nodded solemnly and stepped away from the statue. “Shadows stir now more than ever. Soon, we’ll all have to face our fate.”Tauriel glanced back at the broken sword. “That we will.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2739
Like they had many times before, the orcs tossed Thallas into the cell. As soon as Tauriel saw him, she knew something was wrong. When he landed, arms pressed over his face and nose pointed towards the dirt, he made no move. He just lay there, trembling. When she lightly touched his shoulder, he let out a whimpering cry and tightened his grip around his head. Tauriel could faintly see blood soaking into the sleeves of his torn shirt. She was, with little resistance on his part, able to drag him farther into the cell, and lay his head on her lap. His shuddering breathing had steadied, but was still pained, and rasped slightly with every breath.“Tauriel?” He asked after what felt like hours, sounding small and scared, like a child who was lost in a strange place, and as if every sound caused him pain. “I’m here, Thallas,” she reassured him, trying to sound calm despite the fear that twisted in her gut at what they might have done to him. There was a long silence before he spoke again.“It was him,” Thallas’s voice shook more and more as he kept whispering. “I saw the darkness. The Lord of Mordor.” His voice turned to a sob. “Sauron. Sauron has returned.” Slowly, Thallas pulled his arms away from his face, and now it was Tauriel who sobbed. Thallas’s face and arms were caked with dried and still-tacky blood, but that was not the worst. Sunken into his face, surrounded by black burns, were two hollow eye sockets. Tauriel covered her mouth with her hand as a wave of bile cut off the cry that threatened to escape her. Thallas winced as her tears fell to his brow.Tenderly, trying to avoid the myriad burns and cuts, she held a hand to his head. On instinct, she felt magic flow through her, calming the worst of his pain and sending him to sleep. Once he was still, she was able to notice his lips, which had been cut in a star-like pattern. She should’ve protected him from this. She should’ve fought harder and never let the orcs take him from their cell to begin with.She thought back on Thallas’s words… Sauron. Was he what was behind this wretched place? Her father had rarely spoken of what had transpired at Dagorlad, how defeating Mordor had cost him the last of his family. If Sauron was here… Then there really was no hope for her. She leaned back against the wall, suddenly feeling very small.What wretched plan did the Dark Lord have for Thallas? Why take his eyes?When the orcs came for Thallas again, Tauriel fought them like she hadn’t in hundreds of years. She scratched at them with her blunt nails as they reached their black claws towards his still-limp body. When one orc snarled at her and lashed out, she kicked its leg hard enough to feel a satisfying crunch. She jumped on the one who had swung at her, when a sudden blow to her head sent the room spinning.As she tried to blink the world back into clarity, she saw the orcs take Thallas away. She didn’t move from the ground once the iron door slammed, there was no point to it. She wasn’t strong enough to keep him safe. She wasn’t strong enough to save herself or anyone else in this damned place. She wasn’t enough.Thallas returned weaker than before, barely able to hold his own head up. When he tried to speak, his voice was rougher than before, only able to scratch out a few syllables at a time.As more insubstantial days passed, the scarring around Thallas’s mouth grew worse, refusing to close. His eyes, at least, didn’t fester. She’d managed to rip strips of fabric from her tunic to tie around his head to cover the sockets. Combined with the way his bones had started to jut out of his skin, the blood-stained fabric gave him a ghastly appearance.“I’ll bring you back,” Tauriel promised, tracing a crack in the ceiling with her eyes while Thallas rested his head in her lap. “I’ll bring you back to Ithilien. We’ll listen to the birds together, smell the flowers, and feel the rain on our skin.”“I can’t remember the birds,” Thallas rasped. He rarely spoke more than a few words at a time due to the painful scars.“I’ll name them for you,” She offered, but an awful feeling in her heart told her that wasn’t what he meant. Even before Sauron had taken his eyes, Thallas had slowly stopped speaking of his home, or anything else outside of the many caves of the Arena. She wondered if it was the fact that she was an elf that was keeping her sane, or if Sauron and his minions simply hated Thallas that much. Maybe she wasn’t sane anymore, either.The ghost of a smile crossed his face. “You should… take me to your home, too,” He whispered. She tried to smile back. “They’ll hold a feast for us.” She thought up the most comforting ideas she could manage. “We’ll sit in the sun together. They play music on many days, and you can hear it throughout the whole city…” Thallas drifted to sleep as she stared off at the wall, wondering if there truly was anything outside the stone walls that had become her entire existence. It felt insubstantial, like every memory could burn away like morning mist. She gripped Thallas’s shirt a bit tighter, trying to anchor herself with something real and letting her nails bite little marks into her palms. Tauriel tried to fight the orcs again when they came to take Thallas next, to about as much success as she’d had the first time. He tried to comfort her the way she had when they’d first met.“I’ll come back,” He promised, mustering a smile that twisted his scars.Thallas never returned.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
Kili was the only one of the dwarves who seemed to not have decimating Rivendell on his mind. He was, in fact, quite taken with the place. Its elegance and loftiness was simply unlike any craftsmanship he had seen in his life. Once, he even heard Dori comment on the stone carvings that decorated the place, which raised his hopes that maybe dwarves and elves weren’t impossible together after all. He was found many times wandering the halls, admiring the beautiful craftsmanship that went into every stone and tapestry. On one such occasion, he was studying beautiful images of a forest, which Tauriel had told him was an ancient kingdom known as Doriath. Tauriel herself was reading on a nearby window ledge. In a small alcove tucked behind the paintings and tapestries, partly concealed by sheer blue curtains, Kili found something unlike the other arts in the room. It was scrawled in rich ink, onto a finely woven canvas. A family tree, showing two large families, and a third, smaller one to the side, all woven together at one point or another, starting with few and branching to many, and dwindling again further down. He caught the names Elladan and Elrohir quickly, Tauriel’s cousins. Was this her family?He studied the third line, eyes falling on a name at the end. There! Faerelon Tauriel, nestled right under… Thranduil.Thranduil was the king of Mirkwood, Kili knew that much from his studies. If Tauriel was his daughter... She never spoke of her past, beyond vague references to a father and brother, and stating that her mother was dead. The realization that the elf he loved was a princess was confusing, but not startling; like waking from a quiet dream to a calm morning. Everything was shifted into focus; the keystone of the arch had fit perfectly into place, and easily held the weight of everything he knew about her.He turned to find Tauriel standing behind him, realizing what he was looking at, a very un-elvish expression written across her face: shame. She didn’t meet his eyes when she spoke. “...I’m sorry,” was all that she could say. Years, nearly six years of having to lie to the one person who trusted her unconditionally was distilled into those two painful words. “Sorry for what, ghivashel?” Her brow furrowed at the unfamiliar word. He reached out to take her hand. “I never distrusted you because you were an elf. This makes no difference.”“But... Being his daughter...”“His daughter, not him. You always said you left to be your own person, and they all know you’ve been with us for years. If you told them, they would still trust you.”She managed a small smile and squeezed his hand. “I appreciate that you think that.”“But you don’t want them to know?” He guessed.“I’d never ask you to lie to them-” She started, but he held up a hand to cut her off.“They’ll never hear about it from me. On my honor.” That finally got a real smile out of her. “Your honor? Might as well go tell them now.” She relaxed a bit when he laughed. She’d spent years worrying if the day he found out would be the day she’d lose her closest friend. But here they were, laughing and joking like nothing at all had changed. Silently, she thanked the Valar for their kindness. Aulë did his finest work, crafting Kili.“Do you want to go back to them?”“I… I don’t know. I miss them, I always have, but-” She cut herself off, running a hand over her face and sitting back down. “I’m scared, Kili. I’m scared to face them, and I’m scared of what will happen to them if I don’t.” She remembered Radagast’s warning. If something terrible happened to her family, and she didn’t take the chance to prevent it… She’d never be able to live with herself.“Could you tell me about them?” She blinked in surprise at his question. After a moment, she gestured to the empty half of the bench. He sat next to her, and she took several long seconds to decide where to start. Remembering back to one of their first conversations, she finally began.“Legolas was the one who taught me how to shoot. It wasn’t too long after my mother died, and Ada forbade me from learning; he was afraid I’d run off into the wilderness and something terrible would become of me.” She supposed he’d been right after all. Some elves did have a degree of foresight, but she never suspected Thranduil was among them. “We were found out, of course. Ada was furious, and he and Legolas argued for hours.” She smiled. “Legolas won, though, and I started learning properly on the ranges. We didn’t always get along, but Legolas is the one I remember always being there for me, no matter what.”“He and Fee would like each other,” Kili said before he could stop himself.“They probably would,” She agreed, leaning against the wall. “It really is a shame,” She met his eyes for a split second. “That we’re so different.” “I don’t think we’re very different at all.”Looking at his earnest face, Tauriel could feel something like hope. “Maybe we’re not.”Hours later, the conversation with Kili still ringing in her ears, she slipped into Elrond’s office. He didn’t say anything as she entered, simply pushed aside the papers he was writing on and waited patiently as she took a seat.“Did my mother ever speak about me?” She finally asked, staring at her hands. It wasn’t what she had intended to ask, but with thoughts of home on her mind it was what came out.A small smile played on Elrond’s face as he took a moment to bask in the memories. “Your mother loved you and your brother more than anything else. We visited Eryn Lasgalen just after you were born. You were so small, and Legolas was in his tiny mithril vest; and she looked to me and said that her heart was now in two pieces, one in her arms and one by her side.”Emotion welled up unexpectedly in her throat. “But what did she say about me?” She managed. It was easy to love a baby. Had her mother ever suspected that baby would become a monster?“Over the years, she wrote me many letters about you. I can try to find them, if you wish, but they all said the same. That you were adventurous, joyful, kind, stubborn, and that she loved you unconditionally. Nothing could ever change that.”They were quiet for a moment.“Did your father ever tell you about what happened to her?” Elrond asked suddenly.Tauriel blinked in surprise. “Not in any detail.”Elrond nodded, looking unsurprised. “She was returning from visiting us here. She brought you once, but your father didn’t want you to leave the kingdom again so young, so he stayed behind with you and Legolas. Thranduil has always been ruled by his fear of losing those he loves. Hold on to those you have, but don’t let fear guide you.”They fell back into a more comfortable silence.“Why did they wait so long before having Legolas and I?” She had always wondered, but it had never felt right to ask her father.Elrond was quiet for a few moments. “Your mother suffered when Melian and the rest of the Ainur left for the West. I’m told Luthien was the same. Perhaps the Ainur were never created to be alone.” He smiled a bit, eyes distant. “She told me once that it didn’t feel right, she didn’t feel well enough until after Sauron’s defeat. She was always sensitive to the world.”“Everything would be easier if she were here,” Tauriel muttered.“Perhaps. But all we can do in the face of tragedy is move forward.” Tauriel was suddenly struck with the memory of when Arwen had told her Celebrian was sailing to Valinor. Elrond knew so much more about tragedy than her.“Radagast told me it’s grown more dangerous in Mirkwood.” She finally turned back to what she had originally planned to talk about. The words rushed out. “What do you know of it? Are they safe there?”He leaned closer, angling his body more openly to her. “Tauriel, whatever you are going through, we will help you. There is no burden you need carry alone.” He paused to consider his words. “If I may ask, where have these thoughts come from?”She held her breath for a moment, releasing it slowly before responding. “I’m scared.” Her nails picked at the skin on her fingers. “I’m scared I may have cursed them.” I cursed the entire world, her mind insisted, but the words wouldn’t come out. She fought to explain it as best she could. “I did something- something horrible. And I’ve spent the past few years running from it in every way I could. I’m scared that in running from my consequences, I’ve left others to face them instead. And if everyone knew what I did…” They’d throw me away. Elrond’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don't have to explain anything that you don’t wish to,” He spoke gently, like she was an animal that might bolt. She nearly felt like one; the confession itched under her skin.“I can’t explain it,” She said haltingly, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. “I just need to know. Elrond, please tell me, are they in danger?”He sighed. “I cannot lie to you, Tauriel. A darkness has long festered within Mirkwood, but in recent years it has grown, and eluded my Sight. But whatever force drives this darkness, it is not you.”“How can you know that?” She hated arguing with him, but the words kept coming.“If you truly were some force of evil, would you be in my office, worrying about how to make the right choices? Would you be defending groups of dwarves from trolls, or holding your family close? I don’t believe you would.”“Thank you,” She breathed out.“Will you go back?”“I’ll have to eventually, won’t I?” She picked at the fabric of her sleeve. “Ki- my friend, he thinks I should return home.”“What’s holding you back?” Elrond’s gaze was firm, but not accusatory. She let out a long breath to try to soothe the tears burning the back of her throat. “I’ve changed.”He nodded. “So have we all. Everything changes, with time.”“What if I’ve changed too much? What if, after everything… They don’t want me anymore?” The tears she’d been holding back finally started to fall.He reached out and took her hand, running his thumb over his knuckles. “Your father has always had a short temper; but your family will always love you, Tauriel. If it is too difficult for you to return to the Greenwood, then return here. We are your family as well, and there will always be a place for you here.”Part of her wanted to scream, to pour out everything she’d done and allow him to curse her and send her away from his home. No one would knowingly accept someone as tainted as her. But she could not bring herself to pull away from the warmth in his eyes and touch. Adding to her ever-growing list of sins, Tauriel accepted his love. 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
Fili poked at the fire, letting the laughter of the company around him soothe the worries of the past few days. The set of rooms they had been given all connected to a private, open-air courtyard, and they were all quick to take advantage of the fire pit built into the stones.Kili was sitting with Tauriel. They traced their fingers over her strange elvish tattoos as she spoke in a low voice. If Fili had been closer, he would have been able to hear her explaining the meaning behind each line.“This one here,” She traced just above her elbow. “Is a memorial of my father’s war in the First Age.” Air seemed to come easier into her chest now that one of her secrets was gone, at least to him. He had accepted every part of her she’d shared, even her people’s crimes. He was still her dearest friend. “This,” She ran her fingers over her right shoulder. “Is my mother’s symbol, which was based on her father’s. It’s not common to bear a parent’s emblem but it’s-” Her throat closed around her words. She had long since healed from her mother’s death, but the day had seemed to tear the wound afresh. “It’s all I have left.” Kili nodded. He didn't have any inkings yet, but it wasn’t common to have them in honor of specific relatives. He supposed it was something to consider, if he ever got any. Something for his father, or any of the many others in his family who were gone. “Are there any that are common?”“Some; I have a few. The pattern of stars at the time of my birth, reminders of my home. Such markings bear great importance among the Silvan elves. A ruler sometimes has a pattern as well, but my father declined to have those done.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sindar sensibilities, I suppose.” She caught his eye and cracked a small smile. “Uncle has one to show he’s in line for the throne.” Kili wasn’t sure if he was actually allowed to tell her that, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. “Fee’s planning on getting his once we’ve retaken the mountain.”“He’ll be a great king, one day,” She said. Looking at the way Fili gently shooed a crawling beetle away from the fire, Kili had to agree.Tauriel spent the night in their rooms, drifting off to the sound of quiet laughter and the fire crackling. When the sun washed over her face in the morning, she felt more calm and certain than she had in ages. She needed to confront what she’d been running from. She needed to face her family, and protect them from her mistakes. She needed to return to Mirkwood.She packed her bag as the others did, working up the courage and the right words to tell them of her decision. “I…” She glanced at Kili for reassurance. “I have discussed with Lord Elrond; I must leave to settle a personal matter.”“Hardly an opportune moment,” Thorin frowned.“These things rarely come at opportune moments; but I promised to see this quest through and I will,” She stated. “It won’t take long, merely a… temporary thing. Stay on the route we planned, and I’ll catch up to you.”“Did something bad happen?” Bofur asked.“I received ill news of family in another realm. I must ensure their safety before I can return to our quest.” The dwarves nodded at that. Nothing was more important to them than family.“Was that the message the other wizard carried for you?” Thorin asked.She nodded. “With luck, whatever ails them will not impact the rest of the quest. Once I know they’re safe, I will return.”“Our good fortunes to you, then.”The company followed her to the East Gate as she fiddled with every buckle and pouch on her belt and pack, unable to keep her hands still and frequently checking if she’d brought everything she would need.Quickly, she pulled loose one of the small pouches at her side. From it, she pulled a charm, a tiny bauble one might find on a child’s necklace. The instant she pressed it into Kili's hand, he could tell it was near-flawless mithril. The charm was an almond shaped eye, hanging sideways so that the points were at the top and bottom rather than the sides. Feathered wings spread from each side, making it almost diamond-shaped. “It’s our most sacred protection symbol.” Kili looked back up as she gave him a small smile. “Keep it safe for me?”“Of course.” He smiled and nodded, slipping it into a pouch at his side right next to his promise stone.To herself, as Kili tucked it away, she sent a small prayer to Manwë, whose symbol the charm bore. Keep him safe for me. She hoped she hadn’t fallen too far, that she hadn’t yet lost the right to invoke the names of the Valar.“Remember: Stay on the road through Mirkwood. There are enchantments worse than the elves’ there.” She strapped her small bag to her back, and handed Gloin the coins she had picked up in the troll hoard. “Meet me in Esgaroth in no less than ten weeks. You cannot risk arriving later than that, Durin’s Day approaches too swiftly.”“But why must you leave?” Ori protested, earning him a chastising nudge from Dori.“I-” Tauriel’s voice broke off as a flicker passed over her. “I have put something off for far too long.” She briskly made for the gate. Before she entered the path, she stopped and turned back to them. “I’ll try to ensure you pass through Mirkwood undetected, but I can promise nothing.” With those words of comfort, she passed out of Rivendell. “Will she be alright?” Ori whispered.Kili forced out a chuckle. “What could possibly hurt her?” His chest constricted painfully as he watched his princess’s fiery hair vanish behind the cliffs.She made instantly for the western path through the mountains, following its route by leaping to trees and stones when she could. With the company no longer setting her pace, she was free to run. It was a greater freedom than she’d had in years, to have a clear goal in her mind and an open road ahead. After hours of hiking, when the gray cliffs and mountain peaks began to recede, she could see the vast forest spread below, stretching over the horizon.Tauriel turned towards home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2872
“Do you still remember the birds?” Thallas croaked out.Tauriel opened her mouth to answer when she realized the cell was empty. Thallas was gone, she remembered. Taken away one day and never returned, leaving her more alone than ever. She hadn’t kept him safe and in doing so had killed him just as surely as she'd killed everyone who’d fallen under her sword.“I remember they were beautiful.” She answered him anyway, her voice nearly as rough as his had been. To her dismay, the Thallas inside her head didn’t respond.She imagined the Thallas inside her head was free. That he had returned to his home, heralded as a hero. He’d be carried home on the shoulders of his grateful people and brought to a great feast to celebrate his return.What had her home been like? There must’ve been something before the constant walls of stone, as impossible as it now seemed. The thought was there, trapped just far enough away whenever she reached for it. She sighed, no energy left to chase after the small flickers of memories.Tauriel was brought back up to the Arena again. As usual, she took a sword and waited for something to fight. A hissing goblin entered, with crude armor and pallid skin. The motions of the fight felt distant, like she was watching each swing and block from outside her own body.With a jab, she was able to slide the tip of her sword into a gap in the goblin’s armor, making it scream.“Good hit,” Thallas said behind her. Tauriel jumped and spun around, finding nothing but empty sand and rock.As she stood looking for Thallas, a weight slammed into her back and knocked her to the floor. She slammed her elbow into the goblin and reached back to tear it away. It grabbed her sword as she threw it, wrenching the weapon from her grip.Once her sword was pulled away, she launched herself at the goblin she was fighting, knocking them both to the ground and making it drop its weapon as well. She struck the creature, feeling only a faint relief that the fight would be over and she could return to the dark solitude of her cell.For a moment, the creature flickered. Instead of a goblin, there was an unclear face with pale blond hair and eyes that shifted between blue and nut-brown under her fist. Something twisted inside her. Emotions flooded out; anger and resentment were the only ones she could understand. Trying to be rid of the awful feelings, she raised her fist, bringing it down again and again on the creature's face. As bone cracked and warm blood coated her fist, the last of the blond finally disappeared. She staggered to her feet, breathing heavily and unevenly. The image of the hair was gone, but the ugly, twisted feelings wouldn’t leave. She kicked the goblin’s body away from her, but the feelings only grew stronger. Orcs rushed in to take her away, and she threw herself at them.Tauriel’s knuckles burned where they struck metal, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The orcs gripped her arms to try to contain her thrashing, their claws biting into her skin. She wanted to snap her teeth at them like a dog, to taste their blood instead of her own in the back of her throat.When the cell door locked behind her, the anger still didn’t dissipate. Tauriel squeezed her fists, wanting to feel something break under them the way the goblin’s bones had. She kicked the metal door again and again until her foot felt like it was on fire, giving her a vicious sort of satisfaction.When the pain finally sunk in and forced her to slide to the ground, the feelings started to melt away, leaving her chest hollow. She pressed her good foot into the injured one and tried to ground herself with the burning sensation, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.Groping blindly across the floor, her hand found a small stone, with a sharp, broken edge. Tauriel dug the edge into the pad of her finger. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to pull her back to her body. She took deep breaths, squeezing the rock rhythmically into her thumb. What’s happening to me? Some small part of her mind wondered, but once again she couldn’t bring herself to care.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
To another, the dark forest might have seemed cursed.To Tauriel, who was raised under dangling tendrils of moss and trees that blotted out the sun, who knew the flapping wings of giant moths which roosted upside-down in the trees like bats, who heard the giggling cries of sprites with razor sharp teeth, who had long since learned that the eyes that always watched you from the shadows were nothing to be feared, it was beautiful.She hesitated for a moment when she reached the western edge of Mirkwood, hovering between the sun and shadow. With a deep breath, she allowed her foot to sink into the soft leaf litter, and returned home.Her first thought was to find one of the patrols. Legolas had led them for years before she left, and she couldn’t think of any reason he’d stop. The patrols always led around the borders, from the mountains to the river and in a wide berth around the caves the elves of Eryn Lasgalen called home.She paused for a moment, feet stuttering on the path. What would happen when she found him? Elrond and the twins had been content enough to allow her to evade their questions, but Legolas would not be so willing.They’d been happy to see her in Rivendell, she reminded herself, clinging to the small comfort the recent memories provided. Legolas would be happy to see her, too, as long as she kept her secrets.As she rounded a corner around a massive oak, she caught a distant flash of blond hair. Nausea swept through her as she recalled the vision she had seen of her brother in the Arena, the way she had beaten the goblin’s body to drive it away. Tauriel rested her hands on the tree as they started to shake. She wasn’t ready. Elrond was right, she should turn back to Rivendell.She had almost turned when she heard Legolas humming. He was closer now, distractedly mumbling out a tune he used to sing for her when the shadows on the wall of her room seemed to be made of grasping claws. You did this for him, she reminded herself. Her sacrifices years ago, they were all for her brother. It was her turn to protect him now, the way he’d driven off her nightmares with a song. She reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head.Legolas was wandering the forest alone. He still led the patrols, as was his duty, but he spent his free moments in solitude with the trees. They were his friends; the ones who listened as he whispered his worries into their bark and laughed with him with the wind in their leaves.Warrior instincts honed from nearly an age of practice, the hairs on his neck raised when he realized someone was following him. He kept his stride steady, relaxing his shoulders to not let his follower know they'd been spotted. He slowed as he entered a clearing, and drifted his fingers down to rest on the pommel of his sword. Stopping in the middle of the clearing, he held his breath, listening to the tiniest movements around him.Legolas turned just in time to parry the blade that came an inch from his face. The cloaked figure that had leapt at him kept attacking, with thrusts and jabs so quick he could scarcely move his blade fast enough to block them.There was a brief lull in the fighting when they broke away for a moment, circling each other like two wolves competing over a kill.They clashed again, blades always slicing close to skin but never close enough to cut, until the cloaked figure glanced Legolas’s sword away with their own and kicked up, hitting his blade far out of his reach.“Don’t feel bad, muindor.” The figure pulled back her hood to reveal a playful but hesitant smile and wood-brown eyes. “I’ve gotten stronger.”
A much younger Tauriel pouted as her older brother once again hit away her small wooden sword. Seeing her so upset, he chuckled and lightly patted her arm.

“Don’t feel bad, muinthel,” he said. “You’ll get stronger.”

•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
When Tauriel and Legolas crossed the bridge to the realm, the expressions on the faces of the guards was something that she would give anything to have immortalized in a painting. One of them dropped their shield in surprise, and looked incredibly embarrassed as Legolas fixed them with a glare and Tauriel stifled a laugh. They went straight to their father’s study, where he spent any moment he wasn’t at the throne. As he heard the door, he opened his mouth to give a disinterested utterance to whoever was approaching, but a single glance up made the words die on his lips. For a moment, he stood there in shock. He had given his only daughter up for dead four hundred years ago, and yet here she was. A heartbeat later, Thranduil was pulling both of his children into a strong embrace. Cradled in his arms, Tauriel wept in a way she hadn’t since she was a child.Hours later, she was back in her old room, sitting on a couch by the balcony she’d left from. Legolas hovered nearby, fiddling with paperweights on her desk.“Your hair is different.”She twisted a strand around her finger. It had auburn-brown when she’d left, wavy and matching the portrait of their mother. It was fiery red now, and formed much tighter curls. “Would you ever believe me if I told you why?” She asked flatly. She wasn’t entirely sure why herself, just that it had changed when she woke in the frozen north seven years ago. “What happened to you, Tauri?” As expected, she didn’t answer, so he continued. “I want to help you, but… I don’t know what to do.”She wanted to scream. He wasn’t supposed to do anything, she was. Everything that was happening was because of her, so she was the one who needed to fix it. When she didn’t answer, Legolas turned to leave.He looked up as she finally spoke.“I used to hate you.” Her eyes were fixed on the floor, and she wasn’t entirely sure what made her speak. “Everyone expected me to be just like you. You just always had to be the perfect child, and there was never any hope for me to measure up.” She just had to prove everyone who thought she was a failure right by making the worst mistakes anyone ever could.“I hated you, after you left,” He admitted, sitting next to her. He leaned his head back, studying at a particular knot in the wood ceiling so he had an excuse to not look at his sister, but he still noticed when she glanced back at him.“Why?” She asked after a moment.He scoffed. “Tauri, I- I worked so hard so this wouldn’t happen. I spent my entire life fighting to make sure that you would be able to be safe. And you just threw all of that away. For what, so you could go play hero and get yourself killed?” She flinched. He almost stopped himself, but the words kept coming. “It’s like no one else’s pain means anything to you.”Tauriel went quiet again. “Is this about Naneth?” What else? He wanted to ask. “You never even talk about her.”“What is there to say? I barely remember her.”Legolas flinched. “After she died… You wouldn’t talk about it, Ada wouldn’t talk about it. I had no one to turn to. As we grew older, I started to think we might actually be close again. And then… I thought you died. You’d gone out and gotten yourself killed because I couldn’t protect you. You mean to tell me that you spent all these years ignoring us?”“Legolas, that’s not what happened-” She finally looked up as anger creased her face.“You won’t tell me what happened; I’m just trying to help fix this-”“It’s not your responsibility to.”“Of course it's my responsibility.”“You weren’t-” She cut herself off. You weren’t the one who did this. It was a terrible thing, Tauriel mused. To lack both the blamelessness of childhood and the courage of adulthood. Failure in both the action and response.“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”“Leave.” Tauriel’s voice was flat and exhausted. “Please.”She didn't turn to look until she heard the door close. 
Two figures sat hunched conspiratorially behind a couch, giggling over their prizes.

Arvuin grinned as her daughter swiped another stolen pastry from the napkin they had spread out. “Don’t tell your ada, meleth nin.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

First Age: 502
When they first came to the Greenwood, one of the first things Arvuin did was create a memorial to her sister. It was only a small garden, with a fountain and statues in her family’s likenesses, but Thranduil could see the weight it took off her shoulders. Arvuin had been devastated when Beleriand was destroyed, forever losing the markers over the graves of her father, sister, and nephews. When Luthien had come back to life with the Gift of Men, Arvuin followed her sister south to dwell in the relative peace of Ossiriand. Likewise, Thranduil followed Arvuin. Even as he aged, Beren was a good hunter - for a human, Thranduil mused. They had started taking rides together simply as a way to allow the sisters time alone together without actually having to speak between themselves, but as the years went by they found they got along very well.Conversation flowed easily as they walked their horses back to their home, the deer they had killed being dragged on a sled by Thranduil’s horse. Beren’s joints stiffened, and his hair had started to streak with gray many years before, but he never lost his joy for riding. As they rounded the last curve before their home, Dior raced towards them. Beren smiled to greet his son, but it fell as they grew close enough to see the look on his face. “Adar,” He panted as he skidded to a halt in front of them. “It’s Mam. She’s here.”They met each other's eyes and followed the half-elf back to their home as quickly as they could.Melian sat in the parlor room with her daughters, holding one of their hands  in each of hers. When Dior, Beren, and Thranduil entered, she nodded to them and spoke. “Your father called upon the dwarves to set the Silmaril within the Nauglamir.”“So we heard,” Luthien said, leaning forward. “Did the Enemy try to retake the jewel? Or the Kinslayers?”Melian shook her head. “The craftsmen he called upon grew greedy, and turned on him when he would not pay more than what was promised. They seized the jewel, and slew him.”Arvuin brought a hand to her mouth. Luthien looked stricken, leaning back into Beren for support.“They slew him? In Menegroth?” The man asked.“They held no ill will when they crossed my girdle, so it did not bar them. They fled swiftly after.”“Where are they?” Dior demanded.“Returning to Nogrod, to muster their kin to war.” Melian’s voice was distant. “In my grief, I must return to my kin in the west.”Privately, Thranduil was unnerved by a being so serene speaking of unimaginable grief. He wondered if she was hiding her feelings from her face, or if her emotions were too different for an elf to even comprehend. As he was thinking, Melian stood, dropping her daughter’s hands.Melian stepped through the door, and there was a sound like rushing wind. Almost immediately, Luthien let out a gasp and Arvuin brought a hand to her chest as if she was hurt. “Naneth?”“Are you alright?” Beren asked as Thranduil reached out to steady Arvuin. Luthien nodded, and the sisters leaned against each other instinctively. Sending one last worried glance at his wife, Beren laid his hand on Thranduil’s arm. “We must go,” He said urgently.“Now?” Dior asked, looking distressed.“Without the Queen, Doriath won’t hold against a full offense from the dwarves.” Beren insisted. Thranduil had faith in his father’s soldiers, but the thought of an army marching on his brother was enough to make him leap to his feet. Leaving Luthien with her sister, Beren left quickly to gather his weapons and armor. Thranduil sent Dior to marshall the small company living with them before retrieving his own armor and making for the stables for a new horse.As he saddled it with light leather armor, he heard footsteps approaching. He turned to find Arvuin, still in the same dress she’d been wearing before. “You’re staying?” He tried to disguise his relief. With the shock of losing Thingol, he couldn’t stand to put his beloved in the way of her father’s killers.Arvuin glanced back at the doorway. “I can’t leave her, not now. She’s… not well.”Thranduil nodded and kissed her forehead. “Watch over her. I’ll return to you.” She gave him a small smile back.“You’d better.”Beren slipped in behind her, tacking up his own fresh horse with hands more steady than they’d been in years.“I’ll ride with you.” Dior rounded the corner into the stables, already fixing the straps on this armor. Thranduil expected Beren to protest, but he only grabbed his son gently by the back of the neck.“You’ve become a finer man than I ever could have imagined,” Beren said. Dior blinked rapidly and looked away. With the assembled fighters of Tol Galen at their backs, the three of them rode out, and Thranduil could only spare a single glance back at Arvuin.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
A year later, Thranduil and Arvuin stood together in front of two stone cairns. Over both of them, Arvuin had draped the blue shroud her sister had worn nearly every day, which now fluttered empty in the wind. Arvuin turned suddenly, burying her face in Thranduil’s chest. Instinctively, he held her close.It hurt him to lose Luthien. She had been his princess, and for the last 40 years, his friend. But he knew no losses like Arvuin had felt. He stroked her hair, trying to reassure her. He’d rarely felt so completely inadequate. “This was her choice,” He whispered, mostly to himself. Arvuin nodded in agreement nevertheless.“It was.” He wondered if the comfort felt as pitiful to her as it did to him.“The jewel?” He asked. She shook her head.“It can go to Dior. The beautiful thing is cursed to me now.” Her face twisted. “If my father had never desired it, my family would be whole,” She spat, only to sigh and let the bitterness fall away.“You can be angry,” He whispered. He kissed her brown hair and rubbed circles on her back. “I’m not, truly.” She tightened her grip on him. “I want to go home, My Spring.”“We will,” He promised. 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
“I missed the river,” Thranduil admitted, smiling into the rushing Celon. He and Arvuin had spent many long evenings wandering the forest after their return.“It’s only a river,” She teased lightly. “We had one back in Tol Galen, you know.”He shook his head and took her hand. “But this is our river. This river means home.” He was silent for a moment, hesitating before he spoke again. “If we have a child, we should name them after the river.” Relief washed over him as she laughed.“If we have a child, we should name them after the trees,” She argued. “The trees are what mean home to me.” She squeezed his hand. “The trees and you.”They hadn’t talked much about their future. They hadn’t even married yet, though Thingol had given them his blessing decades ago. Maybe, Thranduil thought, it was time for them to make a future for themselves. “Well, either way, we should marry first,” He tried to sound casual.Arvuin smiled faintly up at him. He took pride in the fact that it was the brightest she’d looked in months. “We should.” She raised their joined hands and kissed his thumb. “When the first flowers come, My Spring?”With a kiss, they returned to Menegroth.Dior was a bit strange, if Thranduil was honest. He loved the boy like his own blood, but seeing the grown king who had been a small boy only years ago was unnerving at best. He had certainly inherited his father’s aging, it seemed. Arvuin said nothing, but he knew it pained her, to see her family growing up so fast. She distracted herself in equal parts by doting on the twins and baby Elwing, and by spending time with Thranduil’s family.It was a relief to be reunited with his family, but each time he saw his father he seemed more weighed down by responsibilities.“Our people have not suffered from Melian’s departure,” Oropher reassured him, pouring each of them another glass of wine.Aglarad rolled his dark eyes. “What he means is that we’re patrolling night and day. I hardly remember what a bed looks like,” He quipped.Oropher leveled a look at his younger son and continued. “Dior has placed me in command of his armies, and I take that position very seriously. Without the Girdle, we must be on constant alert.”“Have you heard tell of any threats?”“The kinslayers will not rest until they have taken the Silmaril. They have not marshaled yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”Thranduil frowned into his wine, watching the ripples distort his reflection. The Doriathrim were keeping the fallen Girdle as close to their chest as possible, but his father was right. It was only a matter of time before someone wandered too close and realized they could pass through the trees, and one of them would surely go running to the Noldor. He was pulled from his musings by the door opening.Arvuin gave a small smile as she entered, shedding the cloak she’d taken to wearing around the caves since their return, claiming they made her more chilled than before. Thranduil smiled back and moved to make room for her on the couch he was sitting on. She hurried over, mumbling greetings to Aglarad and Oropher.“How were the children?” Thranduil asked, noting the dirtied hem of her dress.“Terrors,” She sighed with fond eyes.“You don’t always have to be the one giving Dior and Nimloth a break, you know. We could handle them as well.” Across from them, Aglarad made a noise of disagreement.“Enjoy it,” Oropher glanced at his sons. “They’ll only be young for so long before they argue with you at every opportunity and make you feel old.” Thranduil and Aglarad pulled the same offended face at their father, making him lift the corner of his mouth in what counted as a rare smile these days.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

First Age: 506
“Hiril nin,”Arvuin turned to the soldier who approached her. Behind them, the scattered remains of the Doriathrin Sindar filled the dale. She had climbed a small hill to scout, and have a small moment of privacy, but it could not last. She could hear her husband approaching from behind her where he’d left his brother with Elwing. The wound he’d received from the kinslayers had been treated, but his gait was still uneven.“The people await your orders, hiril nin,” The guard stated, voice strained from exhaustion and loss.Arvuin looked back at all the survivors. “Follow the river,” She ordered. “Make for Cirdan and the Mouths of Sirion.” The guard bowed and returned to the host to relay her message. Thranduil stepped closer so his voice would not carry on the wind.“Mae carnen, meleth nin,” He whispered. He paused before continuing. “Some of the people are asking if you’re their queen, now.”“Elwing is Dior’s heir,” She stated.“Elwing is scarcely more than an infant,” He argued gently. Their people needed a leader, now more than ever.“She won’t stay a child forever.” Arvuin’s stoic facade cracked for the first time since they’d fled the forest. “Nor will she live forever.” She glanced back again at where Oropher and his remaining soldiers were organizing the refugees. Oropher was a good man; she knew the only reason he hadn’t fallen in defense of Dior was because he protected her retreat from Menegroth as she’d carried Elwing. “They already look to your father, let him continue to lead.”Thranduil frowned. “You’re their princess-”Arvuin cut him off. “And I will rule them if I must. But your father is a natural-born leader, and he would make a greater ruler than I, at least for now.” She took his hands. “He wouldn’t be alone. We could rule together, as a family.”Thranduil couldn’t say no to that. And in truth, agreed; he didn’t feel able to rule the remnants of the Sindar, but the choice had to be Arvuin’s. “If that is your wish.” They stood in silence for a few precious seconds before the wind carried the sound of Elwing’s fussing to them.Aglarad offered an attempt at a smile as they approached that was much more of a grimace. Elwing squirmed about in his grip, refusing every attempt at comfort or food from him or her nurse.“Hello, little bird,” Arvuin cooed, mustering as much of a smile as she could. Elwing stilled a bit, but still stared at her with a frown. Arvuin reached out to brush away the tear-stains on her round cheeks as she continued. “We’re going to go visit Cirdan for a while. Do you remember Cirdan?” She received a small nod, and gave a shaky sigh of relief. “We’re going to stay with him for a while, and you’re going to be safe there. Do you understand?” Elwing nodded again and reached her arms out to Arvuin, who took her from Aglarad’s grip. “Come here, little bird.”“I’m no good with her,” Aglarad mumbled.“You’re doing well,” Thranduil promised, remembering when he had cared for his baby brother before turning his attention back to Elwing. “You’ll stay with us the entire time, all right?”She nodded again and tucked her head into Arvuin’s neck. After a moment, she asked, “Where’s Rin and Red?” It was the first time she’d spoken since the attack started.Arvuin’s breath caught in her throat. She sighed slowly to release it, pulling the little girl closer. “They aren’t here right now,” She managed to get out. “Are we gonna go get them?”“I… They…” Arvuin stared at the grass. “They’re with your Ada and Nana, and they’re going to take care of them. But we can’t go to them right now.” She could tell Elwing didn’t understand, but mercifully she didn’t ask any more questions. Arvuin glanced at the others and nodded back up the hill. “We must move on.”Thranduil wrapped his cloak around her and Elwing, and they made their way back up the hill.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

Second Age: 3434
Arvuin watched Thranduil don his armor with a solemn expression. Their force would be leaving in a few short hours, and no matter how much she prayed, the sun didn’t slow.“I want to fight with you,” She said quietly, as if she already knew what he would say.“Only if you promise to leave some for the rest of us,” He tried to joke, but sighed and stepped forward when her frown deepened. “ You are the true leader of the Sindar. Not me, or my father. You.” He cupped her face. “We can fall. You cannot. Let us defend you and our people.”She rested her hand over his. “You will not fall,” She stated, with all the ferocity that had taken her sister to Angband and back. “If you fall, I will tear down Mordor myself and then make the Valar give you back to me.”Thranduil smiled in a way he only did around his family. “I know.” He stepped back, turning to fix his cloak around his shoulders.Arvuin glanced out the window, watching the sun paint the eastern sky shades of orange and pink. Oropher had constructed Amon Lanc on a tall hill, overlooking much of southern Greenwood. Having lived most of her life in Menegroth, it had taken her a while to adjust to having sunlight stream into every room. Sometimes she still snuck down to the cellars to be surrounded by the cool, dark stone.Turning away from the window, Arvuin gazed back at her husband. He looked a vision with his golden armor matching his hair, and she tried to focus on the red of his cape and not the red stains she saw everytime she closed her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped him in her arms.“Return to me, My Spring,” She ordered.“To you?” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “Always.”
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
Metal clashed all around. Gil-Galad - the damnable Noldo - was taking the brunt of the attack with his forces. Never to be outdone, Oropher had pushed on ahead, overtaking the Noldor forces in a charge that had, at least temporarily, pushed the orcs back.But the charge was stalling now. They weren’t gaining anymore ground, and Thranduil felt exhaustion start to seep into his bones. Why couldn’t this be over? Hadn’t they all fought enough? He parried an orc blade away from the soldier next to him. Was it too much to ask to live in a peaceful home with his family? Another orc reared up, but an arrow flew from somewhere behind Thranduil, striking it in the shoulder and giving him enough of an opening to slice its throat.One after the other, they came, like fighting against the rising tide. The orcs never waned, but the elves did. Thranduil was tired. He wanted-Oropher’s voice rang out behind him in a strangled shout.For a moment, Thranduil was young all over again, holding his little brother’s body. He raced toward his father, ignoring the pain bursting in his knees when he fell to the ground. Unlike with Aglarad, Oropher still breathed when Thranduil reached him, in ragged gasps that he tried to stifle. Blood was seeping out from the plates of his armor, joining the pools already spilled beneath them. He pulled his father closer even as the battle continued to rage around them.Thranduil tore at the straps of Oropher’s breastplate, but his father stopped his hands. “Leave me,” He rasped. “No!” Thranduil pulled his hands free and pressed them to Oropher’s side as if he could staunch that much blood. “I won’t lose you.” I can’t lose you, too. “Protect… Our people.” Oropher went still.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
“Under the stars of Elbereth, here stands King Thranduil and Queen Elenathiel.”She hadn’t often used that name in her younger years, but it felt right to take it as she took the throne. Arvuin, in a way, still felt like the scared girl who had fled the remains of Doriath with only one of Dior’s children.Elenathiel would be strong. She would defend her people, her family. Her kingdom would always know their sure and steadfast Queen Elenathiel, and Arvuin could hide all her fears away where only her family could ever find them. Pulling her eyes away from the assembled host, she glanced at Thranduil. He was as regal as always, in a crown of white flowers that matched her own. His eyes met hers, and her chest loosened as she saw a spark of her own uncertainty reflected back.She could face anything with him by her side. As long as they were together, they could protect their kingdom and their people. She blocked out all the sights and sounds around her, forgot anything but his hand in hers. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Everything was going to be alright. Almost imperceptibly, Thranduil’s hand tightened around hers. She gave him a small smile, and turned back to the crowd. He was relying on her, just as she was relying on him. Everything is better in the end, Luthien once told her. If it’s not better, it’s not the end. This would not be the end, not for any of them. So Arvuin lifted her head, looked out at her people, and became queen.
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•

Third Age: 87
Arvuin laughed, kissing her baby’s head. “Look at that hair,” She breathed. “Already looks like his father.”Thranduil couldn’t help the tears falling from his eyes as he brushed his hand over the blond fuzz covering his son’s head. With a tiny noise that went straight to his parents’ hearts, the baby opened his eyes, and Thranduil gasped. Thranduil had never thought much about his own eyes. He’d fallen completely in love with Arvuin’s brown eyes, but never cared much for blue. But their son’s blue eyes were the most beautiful thing Thranduil had ever seen.“He looks like your sister,” He whispered, making Arvuin smile again. The curve of the little baby’s nose was entirely Luthien, and if he looked even closer, his tiny pointed ears were just like Oropher’s.Thranduil leaned down and kissed the baby’s head as well. “Hello, Tinirion,” He whispered. Arvuin smiled, thinking about how the name sounded like Tinuviel. Thranduil leaned in closer to them both. “Any ideas?” He asked her.She held out a finger, letting the baby grab at it. “Legolas,” She finally decided. “My little leaf.”“I’m sure he’ll be running about the forest before we know it.”“Mm. Running about, stealing from the cooks, and driving you and I mad with all types of trouble.” Legolas made a fascinated noise as he inspected his mother’s finger.“Mae carnen, meleth nin. You made the most perfect child.”She leaned back, letting her eyes fall shut. “You helped a bit, My Spring.”Thranduil reached out and took Legolas from her arms. “Rest,” He ordered with a smile. “I’ll watch him.” She muttered something back, already drifting to sleep, and left Thranduil to quietly enjoy the happiest day of his life.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
Tauriel dreamed again that night.She was walking through a dark room, but the blackness posed no hindrance to her eyes. A torn cape and a broken sword lay across a table of dark stone. The sword was of beautiful craft, with many hours evident in its ornate guard and hilt, and much skill in the sharpness of its blade. The cape was shredded and caked with dirt and blood, yet the brooch pinned to it, a star with eight points, shone brighter than a star.Her legs began to move, carrying her through motions they seemed to know, and that she was powerless to change. As she strode down a hall, her new ears, even more sensitive than her normal elven ones, picked up a cry. She walked to where the shouts had come: a large room, with shackles hanging from he walls and instruments of torture strewn about. Another scream came from the elf chained at the other end of the room. He was facing her, his exposed chest was riddled with scars. One of his eyes had been forced shut by a large bruise covering it. His red hair, made choppy and matted by his time here, was being pulled roughly back by another man in black robes standing with his back to her, who was tracing a poisoned blade down the jaw of the elf. As the elf’s good eye fixed on her approach, the other man turned. Man wasn’t quite the right word she could use to describe him, his face was equal parts masculine handsomeness and feminine beauty, and he was clearly not human, nor elf. Pointed teeth flashed in a manic grin were the last things she saw. Despite the fact that she knew there was little to be feared within their borders, Tauriel felt relief wash over her when she saw her brother approaching, alive and well. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding into the wine she had poured to soothe her nerves during his patrol, then looked up and smiled at him. “Keeping us safe?” She half-teased, hoping she sounded more relaxed than she felt.He rolled his eyes at her. “As much as ever.” He frowned and glanced over the edge of the balcony.Tauriel furrowed her brow. “Did something happen?” Radagast’s words of an evil growing in the forest echoed in her head. “Nothing that’s a threat to us, but strange. We found a party of dwarves being attacked by spiders not a 2 hour walk away, separated from the path.” He gestured to the side with his head as he rubbed the tension from his wrists. She nearly dropped her cup.  I don’t hate your kind, Thorin once told her. Just the ones who harmed me and my kin. He’d meant to comfort her, to let her know she was accepted, but all the words had done was put a pit in her stomach. When she managed to glance over the side of the balcony, she could see the backs of Bifur, Dori, and Ori vanishing around a corner. Damn. 
•~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•
Despite having been captured by woodland elves of all things, Thorin felt a sense of relief as they entered the halls. It took him a moment to realize that, aside from the brief fight for their lives in the goblin tunnels, it was the first time he’d been properly underground since leaving Ered Luin. The self-supporting bridges, though far too curved and nonsensical, were almost like Erebor.  It burned him, being reminded of his mountain within Thranduil’s halls, but with their destination so close the thoughts were unavoidable. The pale-haired elf who had captured them had split off from the group as soon as they passed the gates into their city, taking Thorin’s sword with him. The rest of the patrol brought them into what must’ve been a guard house, where the elves attempted to question them.“What business brings you within our borders?”“We came to beg for food, because we were starving,” Thorin answered immediately. The rest of the company nodded along.“What brought you to disturb a nest of spiders so ill-armed?” The elf captain all but sneered.“We did not intend to encounter the creatures, we were simply lost and starving.”“What were you doing in the forest?”“Starving.” The others nodded again.“What brought you to the forest to begin with?” The captain snapped.“We’re traveling to visit our kin,” Thorin practically growled. “We became separated from the path and ran out of food, so we were starving.”Finally, the captain said something in elvish to the rest of the guards, waving his hand at the company. Together, they were shuffled back out of the guardhouse and back onto the winding wooden paths. Sounds of music and laughter drifted down from the upper levels, along with the faint smell of food that made Thorin’s stomach clench. He hadn’t entirely been lying to the elf; the provisions Beorn provided had only lasted so long once they’d been separated from the forest path.When the path forked down to the dungeons, there was a landing above them. The blond elf who had led the patrol was standing upon it, talking to a figure with unmistakable red hair and an elegant dress. She wasn’t fully turned to see them, but he could catch enough of her face to know it was Tauriel. Thorin cast a quick glance at the others, and the wide-eyed looks on their faces told him they’d seen her, too. Mercifully, no one spoke up.When they reached the depths of the caverns, the guards turned and began locking them into cells unevenly spaced on the carved stairs. The company grumbled a bit, but they all were pushed into the cells until only Thorin remained.“You and your companions will be well fed until the King is ready to meet with you.”“Why will he not meet with us now?” Thorin growled.The elf cocked an eyebrow at him. “The King is celebrating the return of his daughter. You should be grateful, he’s in a favorable mood.” With that, the elf captain slammed the door shut and left with the rest of the guards. An uneasy silence settled over the company.“Well, at least one of us is enjoying herself here.” Bofur tried to break the tension. “What’s she doing here?” Thorin muttered, half to himself, though everyone heard.Kili felt his palms break out in sweat. Reaching up, he fiddled with the charm Tauriel had given him. “Uncle...” He tried to begin. “There’s something I didn’t tell you.” Fili scoffed. “What, that those pointy-eared guards meant her?” Kili didn’t answer. “You’ve got to be joking.”“How’s that even possible?” Dwalin asked gruffly.“I thought Princess Faerelon died,” Thorin remarked.“She didn’t,” Balin recalled. “Just disappeared long before any of us were born.” “And you didn’t tell us?” Fili demanded.“She’s my best friend, Fee,” He answered meekly. She’s my One, he wanted to admit, but figured he was already pushing it.“When did she tell you?” Thorin asked.“She didn’t, exactly. I found a tapestry of her family in Rivendell and figured it out.”“Is that why she left?” Fili asked.Kili nodded before realizing almost nobody could see him. “Aye.”Pointedly, and maybe a bit childishly, Kili ignored the rest of the accusations and discussions, even when the guards returned to take Thorin to see Thranduil. Just as well he did, it seemed, as his uncle had only made this worse for their prospects if the conversation when he returned was anything to go by. The hours dragged on, and one by one, the dwarves finally went quiet, only to break the silence again with their snores. The dungeons were far away from the sun, but Kili had to assume it was late. The noise of the party on the levels above had died down, as had the ambient bustle of the kingdom. He tossed his runestone back and forth between his hands, unable to fall asleep. In between Bombur’s snores, he faintly heard fabric running across stone. He sat up just in time to see Tauriel coming down the stairs outside his cell. She was in a flowing white gown that left the freckles on her shoulders bare and faded to blue as it met the floor. He thought the braids and circlet in her hair made her look like a vision. She halted as she caught sight of him looking. They stared at each other in silence for a moment.“I’m sorry,” They finally said at the same time. Kili laughed, but Tauriel only offered a pained smile.“I’m sorry,” She repeated, sitting down on the steps. She glanced at the sleeping company. “Did you tell them?”He nodded. “Sorry.”“Don’t apologize. I should’ve been honest with you from the beginning. I should’ve let you all cast me away as you saw fit.” He winced at that, but she continued. “Doing what I did, I violated your trust. I’m sorry I ever put you in this situation.”He didn’t know how to respond, so they sat in silence.“Why did Thranduil offer to let Thorin go?” Kili finally asked.“He wants my mother’s gems back.” Their eyes met for a moment. “The gems of Lasgalen are heirlooms from Doriath. Not too long before I left, he sent them to the Mountain to be crafted into jewelry for me, but your…” She thought for a moment. “Great-great-grandfather, Dain I, refused to give them back, as did Thror.”Kili wanted to throttle Thorin there and then. They were being locked up here because he wouldn’t return jewelry? “I take it he refused?” Thorin’s shouting at the elvenking had echoed all the way down to the cells, though the elves likely hadn’t understood him. “In a manner of speaking.”“And the party is for you, too?” He looked back up the stairs where laughter and music were still trickling down from above.She wrinkled her nose. “Believe me, this-” She gestured between them. “Has been the highlight of my evening.”“Didn’t you miss them?” He asked. She sighed, guilt seeping in again.“Terribly. But I never fit while I was here. Now, I don’t know if I fit anywhere.” She picked at the skin of her finger as she stared at the walls with an odd expression.Kili knew how that felt. He’d thought that this quest would be his chance to finally find out who he was, to make his own place. Part of him wanted to tell her that she would always have a place with him, but his lips wouldn’t obey. It probably wasn’t true, anyway. His people distrusted her as much as hers did him. He ran his thumb over the runestone again. “We won’t reach the Mountain.” He muttered, mostly to himself, but Tauriel looked up anyway. “You will.” She stood, determination steeled in her eyes. “The party is continuing tomorrow. Make sure everyone stays awake into the night, I’ll send Bilbo to you and get you out.”“You found Bilbo?” Relief washed over him. They’d all feared the worst when no one had been able to find him after the spiders.“He’s safe, he followed you all in after my brother captured you.”He reached through the bars of the door as she turned, grabbing her hand. “Be safe, amrȃlimê.”She rubbed her thumb over his fingers. “You too.”True to her word, once the party had grown past its peak the next night, Bilbo’s curly hair poked around the entrance to the dungeon area. He made his way up the stairs towards them, motioning for everyone to be quiet. When he reached them, he pulled out a ring of keys, trying several before he found the one to their doors. Thorin fondly whispered something to Bildo in Khuzdul as he stepped out of the cell, only to look past him and frown.Tauriel hurried down the stairs from above, clutching the skirt of another party dress so as to not step on it in one hand, and a pack in the other. She pressed a finger to her lips and nodded to Bilbo, who led them further down the stairs.“I found this last night; the guards were all getting drunk during the party and complaining about having to send the barrels back,” Bilbo whispered as he turned towards the wine cellar.“They always have to be sent down to Esgaroth after parties, so the river won’t be blocked.” Tauriel gave Bilbo a small smile. “Clever idea.”“What idea?” Dwalin asked suspiciously. Bilbo gestured to the empty barrels.“Get in.”Tauriel lifted the water-tight pack she’d brought. “The armory is too centrally located to reach unnoticed, but I took as much food as I could for you.”“You’re not coming with us?” Fili’s brow creased with worry.“If Ada sees I’ve run away again, you’ll never make it out of the forest.” She looked back up the stairs. “I’ll make a distraction for you, but you must be quick.”“Wouldn’t want you to miss your party,” Thorin sneered. She clenched her jaw.“If you have something to say, Thorin, make it plain.”“You tell us of your ill news only to leave us at the mercy of these woods and we find you drinking and feasting with our enemy.”“My father’s actions are not my own-”“You just wanted to go back to your ilk! When have you helped us for any gain but your own? We should have known what to expect from a traitor’s kin.”“Uncle!” Kili interjected.“My own gain?” She spat. “Who convinced Elrond to read your map? Who told you the safe path through the forest? Who has saved you countless times, not to mention just now?” Several dwarves had taken breaths, as if to speak, but she continued hotly. “Me! I’m the one who has been keeping you safe. So don’t accuse me of being a traitor when you are trying to cast out your company’s own protector. I risked my life, my family to help you! So please, explain what exactly I’ve gained from you.”Thorin was about to respond when Bilbo placed a hand on his arm. Tauriel thrust the bag of supplies at Kili as she turned on her heel and left. “You still have a week until Durin’s Day. It’s enough time to skirt the lake.” She and Kili shared a last look before she disappeared up the stairs.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2934
The loneliness bit more harshly now that Thallas was gone. When Tauriel wasn’t staring endlessly at the meaningless walls, she tossed loose rocks at them to break the heavy silence. The latest stone had skittered back towards her hand when she heard the lock to the door open. She couldn’t muster the energy to fight the orcs that would inevitably drag her away, so she sat and waited. The door to her cell swung open quietly and without fanfare. Tauriel froze for a moment, the lack of orcs was almost ridiculously unsettling.“Come,” A man dressed in black and holding a torch said when Tauriel finally stepped out to a hall darkened by the lack of usual lighting. She looked him up and down in confusion. He wore no weapons or armor, and there was nothing to stop her from escaping. The chain hadn’t even appeared from her cuff. “By all means, run,” he said in a casual tone. “You know this place is too deep in your master’s magic to be escaped from.” Anger burned in her chest, and her hands shook trying to restrain it. She’d starve in the tunnels before she ever found a way out, she tried to remind herself.The man lead her through a series of winding tunnels, deep below the Arenas and rooms of torture to a passage she had never seen before, hewn of jet black stone. The further they progressed, the more she had to focus to keep her balance. The very stone itself throbbed with a disorientating, deep power that threatened to throw her from her feet. Dark magic was deeply imbued into this place. Suddenly, the tunnel opened into a cave, filled with nothingness. Clouds of pure emptiness hung in the air, making it near impossible to see. It was not black, nor any other color that she could envision. It was as if she had become blind to everything but the path in front of her, or perhaps that beyond that everything else had simply ceased to exist. She knew they had been close to a source of dark magic; but never could she have imagined this, the thing she had been trained from birth to fear, the thing she had been brought here to serve. The Void.The realm of nothing. The prison of chaos. The place so dangerous that even the Valar hardly dared venture there anymore, where only Eru could make meaning out of naught. The only bridge Tauriel had known of between this world and the Void was the Door of Night, beyond which Morgoth was eternally held in his prison; but there must be another here; a weak point in the very fabric of Arda. It hit her like a thunderclap. That’s why she had not felt the passing of hundreds of years. That’s why Thallas had survived and not withered with age. That’s how this entire infernal place existed. The void was beyond time, beyond light, beyond warmth, beyond life. And they’d all unknowingly been inches from its grasp.She’d been wrong. It hadn’t been Sauron’s power drawing them in and trapping them. It had never been anything quite so small. It had always been him. When a wave of power rippled out from the Void in front of her, it knocked her completely to the ground. It took her another moment after for her to realize that that wave of power had been words. Not in any language she had ever known, nor, she could tell, any language that was meant to be understood by the ears of the Children of Illuvatar. Yet it formed meaning inside her head. “I know what you think,” The voice out of the void said, malice dripping from every firm word. “I was the first to see the use of you Eldar. I always desired to free and perfect you. Of course, my original attempts at perfection were… Flawed. But now, now I can truly heal you of the plague you were born to. I can break you free from the tyrant who created you only to be his servants.” Tauriel rose to her feet, but still she shook with a fear unlike any she had never known. “Destruction of his song is the only way to make a world he cannot control. And you-” The being narrowed its attention on her, driving its invisible sight into her like the sharpest blade. “You desire freedom. You buck at the yoke they harnessed to you. Everything that has passed is because of you and your refusal to be controlled.” Instinctively, she pulled her arms to her chest, as if to stop him from reading her deepest thoughts, which he so easily pried from her heart.Something moved in the Void, and she only had time to see a tall man in tattered black armor before she was plunged into a darkness more profound than anything she had ever experienced. All of her senses were stripped away, but she could still feel that presence with her.They thought that by banishing me they had made themselves safe. She could still hear - feel - his voice, clear inside her head. She could vaguely feel something around her - movement? Wind? Was she falling? They thought that the emptiness of the Void would hold me. But the Void desires to be whole again. The Void is chaos, desires chaos. Now, I am more powerful than when they first cursed me. Those fools sit in their halls, thinking that their door is the only way through the Void. 
They have forgotten its true power, and like a limb that atrophies under neglect, they have made themselves weak and complacent. Now, they lack all strength to stop me, and I will return this pile of rock and matter to the nothingness from whence it came. You will stop this fighting.
Stop fighting? She hadn’t stopped fighting for years. And oh, she was so tired now.
I will take back my realm. You can do nothing.
Stop fighting. The voice was impossible to resist.
Yes.
Never fight again. 
What have I done?

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2941
The ground rumbled all around, just enough to shake some dust loose from the ceiling. Tauriel froze, listening until it shook again. When she looked up, her terrified expression made Legolas’s heart drop. She took off as the rumbling continued, leaping up the stairs as fast as she could. “What are you doing?” He asked as they burst into her room.“Those dwarves, I know them. I can’t leave them to face this alone.” She grabbed a bag from the floor, throwing clothes, a coil of rope, and her knife inside.“Face what?” He was about ready to scream if she didn’t start answering his questions.She finally looked up, panic written across her face. “Thorin Oakenshield has entered the Mountain.” It only took a second for him to process what she meant. “You cannot face a dragon.” He tried to pull the bag out of her grasp, only for her to yank it back.“They’re my friends, I can’t leave them.”“We’re your family, doesn’t that mean something to you?” His voice was hurt like she’d never heard it. Tauriel stared down into her pack for a moment, worrying the cloth between her fingers. For what felt like the thousandth time, she wished she didn’t have to choose between them. “We had an uncle.”“What?” She looked up, creasing her brow.“Ada told me, after you left. He had a brother named Aglarad. He was killed in the war against Morgoth by dragonfire.” Tauriel’s face dropped. “Ada’s scar…?” He nodded.“I couldn’t go through that, Tauri.” He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to drive away the image of his sister, burned and broken. “Please, just stay here.”Commotion sounded from down the hall and saved her from having to answer. The siblings rushed to the door together, opening it to find Feren rushing towards them. “My Prince, my Princess,” He greeted hurriedly. “Our scouts report the dragon has been shot down.” With only a glance at each other, Legolas and Tauriel followed him down the hall to their father’s study.Feren barely managed to bow to the king behind his desk as they entered. “Your Majesty, the dragon has been shot down over Esgaroth. If Thorin Oakenshield yet lives, he has taken the Mountain.”Thranduil thought for a moment before he turned to Legolas. “Assemble a battalion each of spearmen and archers. We leave at first light.” Legolas nodded hesitantly. Giving his sister one last concerned look, he left along with Feren. Tauriel watched him go before wheeling back on her father. “You mean to go to war?”“I do not,” He responded coolly. She scoffed. “Am I to assume preparing an army is a gesture of good will?”“If they survived, a dozen dwarves cannot stand against us, even they know that. I am merely going to bargain.” “Bargain for what? Our people want for nothing, this will do nothing but make them our enemies.”Thranduil’s jaw tightened. “Their kind has always been our enemy. Do not forget what they have done.”“These dwarves have done nothing!” She cut him off as he opened his mouth. “I know they haven’t; I’ve been with them for the last 6 years!”Her father’s eyes went cold as he put together their escape. “You choose them over your kin?”She shook her head, staring directly into his eyes. The back of her throat burned with emotion as she spoke. “You are the one who makes it a choice, Ada.” His face twitched minutely, but she continued on. “They must hold the Mountain.”“They will, if they return what belongs to our people.” He stood. “You are to remain in the kingdom.” He cupped the back of her head as she started to protest. “For your safety, iel nin. The world outside our borders grows more dangerous each day.”“When have you last been outside our borders?” She asked quietly. He left without answering. She brought her hands up to tangle in her hair. Azog would not give up on ending the line of Durin, and Erebor had to hold if they were to have any chance at defeating Morgoth when he returned. She felt powerless. Why wouldn’t anyone just listen to her?So be it. If her father was willing to ignore the threat she had given everything to protect them from, Tauriel would need to take matters into her own hands once more.At first light the next morning, she watched the army stream out of the Eastern Gate. The instant it shut behind them, she turned away, her lilac-colored dress billowing behind her as she rushed back to her room. Once there, she changed into her leather armor and took the light bag she had packed, ready to make for the stables and take a horse. She looked over her shoulder the entire time, but no one stopped her.Thank the Valar, it hadn’t rained since the orc pack pursuing the dwarves passed through the forest. The tracks skirted the edge of the forest leading north, away from the Mountain. She pressed her horse hard to follow them, and by the time they passed  the borders of Mirkwood and turned West, she realized their destination with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Triplet peaks scratched the sky before her, standing alone even from the range surrounding them. Her horse balked as they came into view, sensing her own trepidation.Gundabad. She’d never laid eyes upon it, despite all the times it had haunted her nightmares long past childhood.Thranduil never spoke of what had happened, how he’d fought his way into the fortress only to find Arvuin’s body cold and abandoned. When he came back he had only held Tauriel and Legolas tightly as he shed silent tears. From that day on, neither of them had left the forest kingdom’s borders without him until her fateful flight.She slid off of her horse, leaving it behind on the treeline as she crept forward to investigate. She kept low to the ground as she darted between the boulders and outcroppings that dotted the foothills, until she was finally close enough to see the fortress that loomed over the canyon path.“It’s a sacred site,” Kili told her back in Rivendell. “Durin first awoke there; dwarves used to travel from everywhere to hold meetings and pray to Mahal, until the orcs took it.”It must’ve been a sight to behold then, full of life and unity. But Tauriel couldn’t help the shudder that passed through her as she listened to the wind howling through the ruins.Suddenly, drums sounded from deep within the mountain, making her flinch back against the rocks. Metal shrieked against stone, and when she pulled herself up enough to see the mountain fortress again, she saw massive gates rising, opening up its pitch black depths.Bats spewed from every crevice in the mountain. They swooped low overhead, the wind streaming off their wings nearly ripped off her hood and forced her to duck back again. A horn sounded, echoing out of the canyon only to be drowned out by hundreds - no, thousands of footsteps and clanging metal. Risking another peek over the rise, she could see legions of orcs streaming out of the fortress, with dozens at the head riding on snarling wargs. She hid back behind the rocks, rolled to her feet and broke into a run. It was too late. She’d never be able to warn them in time, and even if she could, there would be no way to fight a horde this massive. No time to muster a large enough army, maybe no army even large enough. She clenched her hand, letting her nails dig into her palms. This was it, then. There was nothing in the world that could save them. She’d failed yet again.Tauriel paused. Nothing in the world.She remembered back, years that felt like eons ago. She remembered the way mountains had crumbled to his will, the way raw power felt pumping through her veins. What she had done to finally lock him back away. Whatever miracle Eru had divined to spare her after she gave everything to be free of Morgoth, she doubted it would happen twice. Even if she was able to control his power long enough to save them, there would be no coming back, no second chances.If he had control again, everyone was doomed. But those she loved would be doomed if she did nothing.Kili and Legolas were there, defenseless.Fili, her father, Thorin.She would not let them die.Tauriel tore the cape from her shoulders and clenched her teeth. Back perfectly straight, fists clenched, eyes closed. With everything she had, she reached out, reaching for the piece of the void that had lived inside her since she first saw it. Inside her mind, her eyes opened. She was in an arched hall of glassy black stone. Without bothering to look around, she strode forward. This would be her domain, now. The hall ended abruptly in a mirror that spanned its entire width and height. The reflection that approached in time with her steps wasn’t hers. Tall, with dark hair, and dressed in a simple black tunic and loose pants, but she knew every edge of the armor that he could don with the twitch of a finger. He was calm, eyes piercing blue rather than a stormy gray. They studied each other, calculating and assessing.“This isn’t permanent.”He chuckled in response, leaning down to be closer to her height.“I’m sure.”He extended a hand through the polished surface of the mirror. She stared at it for a moment, the scar on her stomach aching. As she took his hand, the corridor melted away around her.Her body erupted in burning pain, shooting through and transforming every nerve in her body. Bones jutted out of her back, tearing through her shirt and extending out like claws. She dropped to one knee as her skull felt as if it were being cleaved in half. Synapses and ligaments were torn apart and knitted together. Deadly sharp claws tore from the tips of her fingers. All the while, she felt new power surge through her, invigorating her despite the pain. The bones that had grown out of her back began to weave flesh between them; flesh that was made of shadow and ash, trailing smoke wherever it moved. Magic pulsed through her, thrumming a horrible discord, a chaotic, powerful beat.In the very place where her mother had died so many years ago, Tauriel was remade.Finally, the pain subsided, and she staggered to her feet. She took a few steps to a small pool of water nearby, and gazed at the only part of the transformation that did not cause her pain: her eyes that now sat like polished jet in her face.She raised her hand, and shadows lept into it, forming into a sword with a night-black hilt and a blade that glowed red hot. The magic came easier than it ever had. She pulled the sword back and swung it through the air with a deathly hum. Transformation complete, she lifted her head skyward and stretched her new wings, taking off in a mighty blast that shook the ground where she had been standing.She could almost hear a cruel chuckle in the back of her head. She felt more in control than she had when he had first taken over, like she had more of a grip on the connection she had initiated. But it was fragile, and she could already feel him prodding, trying to find weakness. Dread filled her, but there was no time to spare. She had to save them now, the consequences would have to wait.She would save them.She had to.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Third Age: 2934
Seeing was the worst part. With every motion Morgoth made by her hand, every word of his that passed through her lips, every wave of power that felt like it would tear her to pieces, Tauriel begged that she could turn away. That she could rid herself of the burden of the knowledge that she caused every one of the horrors laid bare before her eyes. If she hadn’t been so weak, she could have fought him off. If she hadn’t been so foolish and childish, she would never have been here to begin with. He had told her she would stop fighting. It was true, not even a thought could be raised against him. They were far in the north, and the cold wind bit her skin at every opportunity. Spread out below her, orcs swarmed like ants around piles of stone taking shape in the snow.He raised her arms, calling up more black stone for the great walls of the fortress, rough shapes for the orcs to carve and place. The effort made her muscles shake from the strain of the magic, but he wouldn’t let her pull away.His thoughts swirled in her head, mingling and melding with her own. She saw people screaming and crying in pain, stars exploding into existence, and mountains larger than anything she could imagine crashing to the ground. She saw his plans for her, to crush her and throw her away as soon as he had amassed enough power to be truly free of the Void, without her as an anchor. Extending her hand again, he called a great blade of darkness into it. It burned in her hand like holding pure ice, and he reveled in it.An orc stumbled up the hill to where she- he was commanding everyone.“My lord,” It growled in black speech. “The builders, they can haul no more stone.”Pathetic, Morgoth hissed. He raised Thangorodrim himself at the height of his power. Who was this useless creature to tell him that an army could not do as he ordered? Who were they to defy him? Who were those pathetic forest-dwellers, to treat her like she was not worthy of- No. Tauriel tried to pull her hand back as he raised it, pointing at the orc. It stepped back in fear. How dare it defy him?Tauriel’s eyes narrowed, and her hand clenched. The orc twitched, crying out and grabbing at its own flesh. It fell to the ground and writhed as Morgoth continued to burn it from the inside out. Tauriel had killed before, but never so… easily. She could feel its heart beating much too fast. She could reach out, grasp it with her power and crush it, feel the last spark of life go out just so easily because she was better, wasn’t she? She was more powerful, so she was the one who deserved to control everything, even life itself.What- What was she thinking? It was revolting, she couldn’t do that to any creature, even an orc. What was wrong with her?All this because she had to run away and have her adventure. How arrogant she’d been, how stupid. If she’d thought just once, none of this would’ve happened. She deserved every ounce of pain the Arena had wrung out of her.Tauriel couldn’t even tell if it was Morgoth’s thoughts or her own that tormented her. When he tightened his grip again, she could barely tell anything, just that he was inside of her head and she wanted him out please just let her go she doesn’t want this she just wants to go home.Something sparked at the edge of their awareness, something that felt golden and familiar. A magical signature, far off in the distance, a spark that burned like fire, pulsed like a beating heart, and felt like carding a hand through someone’s hair. Morgoth’s spirit pulled back for a moment like it gasped, shifting his focus to chase the fading signature.For a moment, his hold slipped. Her body felt like her own again. Breathing heavily, she stared out at the wasteland before her, the destruction she had helped wreak. The handle of the sword was smooth in her grip, and she clenched her fingers around it. She could still feel Morgoth in her head, regaining his focus and turning back to her. She had to act now.Seeing her thoughts, Morgoth fought back for control of her. I will rip up every inch of your miserable world. I will destroy everyone you have ever known and I will make. You. Watch! She thought of her family. For once, the memories were clear as day. She thought of her brother. She’d do anything for him. He would not be a consequence of her mistakes. In one smooth movement, Tauriel lifted the sword in both hands and plunged it into her stomach, piercing her just above the navel and jutting out of her back. Morgoth and the rest of the world around her went quiet. Something dripped down her shirt. Blood, she realized, pouring from her mouth as she tried to breathe. She tried to bring her hands to her neck as she fell to her knees, but they couldn’t quite make it.With her last, strained breath, Tauriel collapsed to her side, and died.. . . .When Tauriel first began to slip back into her body, she felt nothing.