INTO THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD
Summary: Though all her life was shrouded in darkness and shadow, he made her see the world in a way she had forgotten – and she saw, for the first time in a long time, that there was still light left in the world, and it was worth fighting for.
There was a time when Tauriel was still but a young Elf, and she listened to stories of long ago: In time ancient before you were born, they told her, your home was known as Eryn Galen; Greenwood the Great.
She listened attentively as they told her of clear running streams that glittered like diamonds under dappled rays of sunlight, of trees that spiraled up, green and gold - and she would imagine that forest of old, jewel-bright and pristine in an age of light and heroes.
And at night, when all was quiet, she would climb the whispering, rustling trees to watch the brilliance of the stars as they danced across the sky; and she'd wonder if the world beyond was bigger and brighter out there – if there were other Mirkwoods and other Eryn Galens, and what sort of light fell on their treetops and leaf-strewn paths.
But soon, the days had darkened - strange, dark forces ravaged their homeland, and spread their sickness into the woods. Her parents had left in the service of King Thranduil, to defend the Woodland Realm against this new threat. She watched them ride off into the gloom of the forest. With their parting words they promised to return, and for months she had waited, until the cold winds of autumn turned the tree leaves gold and brown, bringing with them the chill of winter.
Her parents did return as promised; but they lay still and unmoving in caskets, their faces pale in death.
Her heart had entered a dark place, then. King Thranduil had taken her into his care in place of her parents; but he was a cold and distant figure, and she learnt, by watching him, how to protect her heart from the pain of loss, like a cold, angry fire that burned low, far from any sort of tenderness.
For several hundred years, she had lived her life in this sort of twilit night - just like how her woodland home had darkened and became the dreaded Mirkwood, the golden-green light of her youth had fallen into an ageless slumber of velvet shadows and dark dreams.
This was the only life she knew - her warrior's instincts honed by a coldness of heart, the keen aim of her arrows and daggers made deadly by calculating ferocity. Not even the tender words and generosity of her lord Prince Legolas could tame or reach her.
But sometimes, when it was quietest, she would wander the forest at night alone. She would climb to the tops of the highest trees and gaze out onto the treetops bathed in the fine white light stars; and mourn what she had felt as a child, to yearn for realms and ages and stories beyond the Mirkwood.
And then - as if they had been carried in by the wind - came Dwarves.
She and Legolas had been patrolling the forest, exterminating the plague of spiders that had wandered too far into the wood. But this day was different - the spiders had taken for their prey a small company of Dwarves - curious little creatures, like stout, sturdy, bearded Elflings. She had never seen their like before.
They were wrapped in furs and leather, and they were much shorter than Elves, but one of the tallest nearly came up to her chin. He had a dark, wild look about him, and was astonishingly brazen - he had demanded a dagger from her, as if he was confident he could handle an elegant Elvish blade in his rough, Dwarven hands; as she couldn't handle the situation herself.
Such nerve, she thought, indignantly.
He and his companions had been taken prisoner, and as she closed the prison doors between them, she thought – with slight regret – that this would be the last of her encounters with the strange folk from beyond the Mirkwood.
But with his parting words, that archer had teased her – and she bristled in response. But as she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her back, his dark eyes watchful and curious.
And when her thoughts drifted, she always found them drifting back to think of those eyes.
That night, the merriment and the noise of the Feast of Starlight drove Tauriel to crave more quiet, silent spaces. And before she realized it, she had made her way down into the dungeons to seek out different company.
She caught him as he was deftly tossing and catching a stone in his hands; his movements, so different from Elves, made her watch as she walked passed.
"That stone in your hand," she asked. "What is it?"
He looked at her, and his gaze flicked away. "It is a talisman," he answered, voice full of foreboding. "If any but a Dwarf should read its runes ... they would be forever cursed."
She felt the breath catch in her throat as he held it up to her gaze; immediately she felt like she wanted to run away. Why are Dwarves so strange? she thought in alarm, and was about to leave -
"Or not," he continued, and she paused. He spoke quickly, as if he wanted her to stay. "Depending whether or not you believe that kind of thing; it's just a token."
She turned back to look at him. He continued to toss and catch the stone, sneaking slightly-sheepish glances at her. Did he tease me again?
She couldn't help herself - she was amused. This strange, fascinating little Dwarf was so different – his eyes were like little deep wells of night, glistening with stars; and gazing into them made her remember the nights when she was young and had wandered beyond the forest to watch the skies alone, in a world that seemed like it would fall away. He made her see the world in a way she had forgotten.
She told him of the starlight, then. She wanted him to understand. And standing there in the depths of the earth she could almost hear the fine, white fire-voices of the stars again, recalled from faraway memory.
He looked at her with a newer, stranger gaze; his voice was low, and so, so soft. She leaned in to listen to him and the rise and fall of his dusky voice brought her to distant parts of the world - where large fire-moons lit up nighttime roads, flanked by looming mountains and plains of grass that stretched endlessly on into the horizon.
"I wish I could show you," he said, and her heart twisted with a strange sort of longing.
A long time ago, Tauriel's heart had closed itself in darkness. But slowly and surely, like the first thaws of spring, she felt a spark grow there in the cold – fine, white fire filled her veins when she heard his name, and spurred her to defy her King and abandon the dappled twilight of her woodland home into the cold grey light of the world.
It was a slow warmth that spread from her heart to her fingers whenever his gaze lingered; when she heard his low; tender voice call for her; when his fingers brushed the tips of hers and he asked, in his fevered dreams, if she could love him.
"I know how I feel, and I'm not afraid."
His words, like drops of rain on dry earth, like rays of sunlight after a long winter's night.
"You make me feel alive."
And she was afraid, so afraid, of the tenderness of his voice, the way he gazed at her with such adoration, melting her steely resignation into the vulnerability and defenselessness of a child's. She never felt this way before. She wanted to remember this feeling forever.
"Amrâlimê."
Tauriel felt her heart breaking in the sweetest, quietest way - and she knew she was in love.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fanfic was entirely inspired by an interview with Evangeline Lilly [ herocomplex . latimes . com . movies/evangeline-lilly-on-the-hobbit-it-changed-my-mind-about-acting/#/0], where she explains her own version of Tauriel's history, and her own take of Tauriel's relationship with Kili. I've tried my best to transcribe that into fanfic here, but I really think Evangeline's words speak for this pairing best~!