Apologies for being away for so long again. This semester kinda chewed me up and spit me out. I'm still working on All Who Wander, for those of you who are wondering. I'm reworking it and adding in more bits and snippets that I've written in my very sparse free time to flesh out the character relationships a bit.
As any of you who follow me know, I have a thing for little one-shot plot bunnies every now and then. This is one that's been in the works since I saw BOTFA and I finally had time to write it. Yay!
I don't ship Kiliel (I find the whole thing to be really, really contrived and pointless), but this little alternate scene popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. I was waiting for something like this to happen in the movie, but it was left kind of ambiguous. Which is bothersome.
The king of Mirkwood saw her from a distance—the traitorous captain of the guard who threw away her home and position for the love of a dwarf. He is dead now; she crouches over him tearfully and places something in his hand, and then kisses him. The king looks away in disgust.
"Why does it hurt so much?" she asks him.
He has no answer. She is a fool for loving one forbidden to her. Yet he has lived a long time and knows that love cannot always be reasoned with—in fact, it almost never can.
"Because," he says with a heavy tone. "It was real." He has never shown it, but millennia later his heart still aches for his lost wife. He has never gotten over the loss of her, merely had to learn to live again without her by his side.
"If this is love, I do not want it." She looks up at him pleadingly, eyes brimming with tears. "Take it from me. Please."
He knows what she wants, yet he is unwilling to give it. She was useful to him, up until her uncharacteristic acts of insubordination when the dwarven filth were captured and then somehow mysteriously escaped. She had had something to do with it, no doubt. What had this lowly dwarf said to her to make her change so? No matter, she was banished now and would likely spend the rest of her life wandering, with no place to go, unwelcome everywhere. He had hated to do it, but it was his duty as king to see those who had disobeyed him were accordingly punished.
The king draws a knife from the folds of his robes and approaches her. He falters; his son will hate him for this, will never forgive him even if he decides to return. He has decided that Legolas must leave Mirkwood, for his own good. He can hardly bear the loss of his only child, the last reminder he has of his wife. He could not bear his hatred as well.
Tauriel closes her eyes, still clasping Kili's hand, waiting. She feels the sharp edge of a blade against her throat, feels the slight tremor as the king hesitated.
"Please," she whispers fervently, the slight movement enough for the razor-sharp edge to pierce her pale skin. She can sense his nod of agreement, though she dare not turn to look at him, already seeing in her mind the pain on his face. She had been one of his own, a friend to his son, and she was asking this of him. It need not be harder than it already is
The king places his hand atop her head to steady her, then quickly draws his knife across her throat, cringing at her cry of pain as she reaches a hand up to the fresh wound, watching her own blood spill over her slender fingers. She weakens rapidly, as she has already been injured in battle, and soon collapses. He guides her onto her back to lie beside the fallen dwarf prince, and clasps their hands together. The two mirror each other, one hand folded across their chests, gazing up lifelessly at the sky. With her last bit of strength, Tauriel turns her head towards her companion.
"I'm coming, Kili." she says. Then she closes her eyes forever.
The king stands at their feet, watching.
"May the Valar forgive us both," he murmurs, his voice suddenly gone and in its place a straining, aching tightness. He knows she will not find what she seeks. The two will not meet on the shores of Valinor. Dwarves do not go there, and without a body, neither will she. She was a fool to the last, but at least she was a braver fool than he. He was a coward. He would not have died for love.
As he turns to leave, he sees a figure in the doorway. His son has been watching, though how long he has been there, Thranduil does not know. As their eyes meet, the tears he has been holding back spill over. The young elf is horrified, has never seen his father in such a state and, moreover, cannot believe what he has just witnessed. Thranduil sees the question in his eyes. Why?
"I am sorry, Legolas."
There is nothing more he can say.
And really nothing more I can say about this either, except...review? I like those.