Tauriel left Thranduil's chamber, her spine straight and her dignity held in a rigid fist. She had known all along that she would never be seen as good enough to stand at Legolas's side anywhere but on the battlefield, but to hear Thranduil say as much in that cold, remote tone of his sliced at her. Wounds she'd thought were long closed threatened to reopen with a mere touch.

She was used to being alone. It had been many years, almost longer than she could remember, since her family had been taken from her in a tragedy that was still spoken of in dark corners when nobody thought she could hear. Since then, she had fought and clawed her way to respectability as a captain of Thranduil's guard. Along the way she'd grown close to Legolas, in the way that warriors who shared battles often did. But carefully, so carefully hidden was the lingering possibility that the camaraderie of battle could develop into something more personal, more intimate. Legolas was strong, brave...and as untouchable as the Lonely Mountain the captive dwarves were so intent on reaching.

She went outside but kept herself hidden, in a dark corner full of shadows, and watched as preparations for the feast neared completion. She was not in a celebratory mood tonight. She felt alone, apart, yearning for a connection that was always just out of her reach. She looked up at the starlight shining down on the celebrants. What did it say of her, that lately she'd begun to feel more at home battling spiders and Orcs than she did bathed in the sacred light of her people?

"You're not usually one to hide in the shadows."

Tauriel took a breath before she turned to watch Legolas approach her. Thranduil's words echoed in her head. "It doesn't feel like a time for celebration," she said. "It feels like we're standing on the edge of something dangerous, something that will change us all forever."

"All this because of the dwarves?" Legolas asked.

"The dwarves and their quest are only part of it," she said with a shake of her head. "It's the spiders, and the way they keep returning to Mirkwood. The king will not allow us to hunt them to their source at Dol Guldur. It's not going to stop unless we do."

"We will keep killing them until they find somewhere else to spawn. We will protect our lands as we always have. Do not doubt that, Tauriel."

"I don't," she assured him, and she didn't. The elves of Mirkwood would always protect what was theirs. But as she had begun to see it, that was part of the problem. "Go," she said. "Don't let me dampen your mood. Join the celebration. I'll be along shortly." She smiled in reassurance and slipped back inside before he could respond. She didn't see Legolas staring after her, a pensive expression on his face.

And some time later, proving just how turned around her mind was, she missed Legolas again, watching her from above as she sat listening to Kili speak of fire moons. She wasn't sure exactly what had drawn her back to the dungeons, and to Kili's cell in particular. It was almost as though an invisible hand had drawn her down here against her will. At least it had been against her will at first. Now she was not so sure.

She had made a show of observing all of the dwarves when she arrived in the dungeons, but she had ended up here, sharing more of herself than she had in a very long time.

"I wish I had been there. I've never seen one," she said to Kili.

"They're very rare, or so I'm told," he said. "I don't think I'll ever see another one in my lifetime. You might, however, if it's true what they say about the life spans of elves. Is it? How old are you, anyway?"

She shot him a sideways look, trying hard to keep her lips from twitching. "I think your mother was right," she said. "I think you are reckless."

And she liked that, she thought. A touch of recklessness to go along with the bravery she sensed in him. She glanced at him again, thinking that she was standing at the beginning of her own reckless path. He wasn't any more reachable to her than Legolas was. Was that why she had come here? Had she been drawn to him on a level more personal than prisoner and guard? If so, she was a fool, and even more alone than she had thought herself.

"You didn't answer my question," Kili said. "I think you are either very old, or very young."

She was young, as far as the life of the average elf went, but she didn't have to tell him that.

"How old are you?" she countered.

"I am the youngest of my company," he answered easily enough, a tilt to his mouth the charmed her against her will. This was a dangerous man, she thought. He presented more risk to her than all the spiders of Mirkwood. She stood up suddenly. She could not afford to forget who she was and what her duties were. She could not let herself be charmed by this man. If Thranduil thought she was becoming soft toward him, it could spell disaster, for both of them.

"Leaving so soon?" Kili said to her back, and her foot paused in the midst of the step she'd been about to take. "You still haven't answered my question."

She turned back to him. "There are days when I feel very, very old," she found herself saying. "There are days when even the sacred starlight struggles to remind me of my purpose."

"What is your purpose?"

"You cannot help yourself, can you? Always more questions." She shook her head. "My purpose is to do as my king commands and protect this land from any threat that comes near, to help keep my people safe."

"We are no threat to your people, my company and I," Kili said. "You have this forest. You have your homeland. All we want is ours."

She thought she understood him, and it made her sad for both of them. For all of the dwarves that were trying to find their home. "All most people want is to belong somewhere," she said quietly, more to herself than anything. "You are lucky, you know."

"It doesn't feel lucky standing on this side of the bars."

She tipped her head down, turning to hide the twitch of her lips she could no longer contain. It was hard to remain dour in the midst of Kili's impish charm. "Whatever trouble you face, I think these men are your family."

"My brother is right over there," he confirmed, gesturing. He smiled. "He thinks I'm reckless as well."

"That should tell you something." She sat down again, unconsciously leaning closer to him. "Always stand by them and protect them, and they will do the same for you."

"What about your family?" he asked. "Where are they?"

She closed her eyes. "My family lives in the starlight." Her fingers suddenly itched to reach out for him, to feel a physical connection to someone else. But she had no right. She didn't know him, and besides, he was Thranduil's prisoner. She shouldn't even be talking to him like this. But it was so easy, she thought. So easy to fall prey to his charm and let herself imagine things that were impossible. To feel that she wasn't quite so alone.

She stood and forced herself to smile down at him. "The next time you find yourself standing beneath a cloudless sky, do not think of the starlight as cold. Bathe yourself in the memories it holds for you, and forge new ones to give it in return."

"Does that mean we are not going to die in these cells?"

Her heart rejected the thought of him dying alone in a gloomy cell. It wasn't right, but she knew of no way to stop it should that be Thranduil's wish. "What purpose would there be in that?" was all she said.

"What purpose is there in keeping us here in the first place?" Kili asked.

She had no answer for him. Thranduil's motives were often opaque to her. "Remember the starlight," she said, and walked away before she could get herself or her heart in any more trouble.