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The Vigor of Spring, part one
Tauriel found herself overloaded with work. With Legolas in the North, the she-elf was the second in command of Mirkwood forces, and it was not a pleasant duty. As the winter progressed and stray beasts – mainly orcs and spiders – became more daring, the guards had tried hard to keep the forest near the Elvenking's halls safe. It was taxing and bloody, but she hadn't lost a single man yet.
Tauriel supposed she should be grateful for all her additional duties which the King had forced upon her as a form of punishment; she hadn't had much time to think about unpleasant things and her light hadn't started to fade yet.
She had been so scared of the possibility. During the first few hours after the battle she had thought that she would surely fade, because the pain had been just too much to handle… but day after day she had forced herself to function as if nothing had changed. The Elvenking was merciless as always with his demands, and the rare glimpse of his kindness at Ravenhill had quickly vanished.
She had had to oversee the transport of the wounded and dead from Dale. She had had to prepare the Guard for winter – meaning bicker endlessly with the blacksmiths and armorers. She had had to plan patrols and think of the palace defenses. Someone – Tauriel, of course – had needed to select the new recruits and oversee their training. The supply routes needed to be cleared again and again… it was a never ending whirlwind of work, work and more work.
It was no wonder that Tauriel had noticed it just now, when the harsh winter was almost behind them and she could take a few very much-needed breaths. And what exactly had she just noticed? The King had practically left her to command the Guard as she pleased. She hadn't spoken to him in a month – come to think of it, she hadn't even seen the Elvenking for a fortnight. Before that, he had spoken to her only curtly and never longer than a few moments.
He had purposefully shunned her. The realization stung.
Tauriel was well aware that she had no right to feel rejected – but Eru help her, she did. She had been shocked by his supporting presence at Ravenhill. She felt humbled by the King's unexpected compassion and continuing helpfulness to people of Dale. She was also very grateful for his permission for her to stay in the Woodland Realm – it was more than she deserved. However, she strongly disliked the change in the dynamics inside of the palace.
Not that she had enjoyed the regular meetings with the monarch, but she had always felt more at peace knowing that the Elvenking with all of his years of experience had had the final word. They had disagreed on some matters, that was very much true, but his wisdom was reassuring.
The captain went to search for her King before she could change her mind. She needed that reassurance and the Elvenking's wisdom.
After all, wasn't he right in the end? She swallowed and nodded to herself. Of course that he had been right, in a sense. Her love for Kíli didn't matter now, didn't affected her duties, her life – for he was dead and buried under the Lonely Mountain and she lived here… and yet, the King had been wrong, because her love for Kíli was the only thing that had mattered then – for it had been real. Tauriel had followed her heart and she hadn't regretted that decision.
She only regretted how it had ended.
And of course, the consequences put her in a position which that was not ideal. Tauriel lacked experience; she was one of the younger elves in the Elvenking's halls, not young enough for other commanders to openly challenge her decisions, but young enough to feel the need for guidance now and then.
There had always been Legolas to hear about her worries, but she refused to think about the Prince. And then there had always been the King to step in and take the responsibility for their realm's safety when others had faltered.
What if Tauriel faltered now? Was this another kind of punishment? The she-elf felt keenly her own shortcomings, and she was deeply ashamed of what she had said to their King. She had spoken out of anger, out of spite. However, she was more ashamed of what she had assumed about him for hundreds of years.
Her search came to an end. It was rather curious, but she had always had a good idea about the King's whereabouts, had always known when he had been near or where to find him when she had needed to report to him immediately.
Tauriel found the Elvenking in a place she had not expected; the herb garden. It was Legolas's favorite spot – one of the few parts open to the outside world. The garden was hidden in the upper levels of the palace, close to the healing rooms.
The King was sitting on a mossy rock in the middle of it, surrounded with only silver moonlight. It was a cold night, his breath was leaving his body in small puffs of vapor, but he was dressed very lightly in a white tunic and plain trousers. He didn't have his crown, his jewels – not even his sword.
Tauriel saw only the left side of his face and she shuddered. The Elvenking was a very handsome elf, but she knew well what his magic concealed. His left eye was blind and this half of his face was terribly scarred.
She stood there hidden in the shadows and watched him for several long moments, marveling at the picture before her. He seemed so at peace, yet there was something deeply disconcerting in his posture.
"I know you are there." The King's voice was calm, his mouth barely moving, and he didn't even look at her. "Come, sit with me."
Startled, Tauriel obeyed and moved closer. Her presence disturbed the tranquility of the garden and the King sighed and glanced at her, a small smile playing across his lips. "What keeps you awake it this time of night?"
"I'm worried, my lord." She followed his example and sat down on the ground, her fingers moving over the frozen moss. It was a surprisingly cold night, indeed.
"Unnecessarily, I believe." The King closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "The winter is behind us, and those attacks that worry you so will soon cease."
He was unusually relaxed, she noticed. He had always been so unapproachable, tense, coiled like a snake ready to attack. He had been so intense; she always felt his eyes on her at every opportunity – assessing her, judging her.
Legolas had said once or twice that the King had been fond of Tauriel, but she had never believed him. Tauriel had felt that she had done something to displease the Elvenking, something that had frustrated him very much, but even to this day she just didn't know what. What had earned her so much of his contempt?
When she had been younger, it had been easier to avoid looking him in the eye, and later it had become a habit, so Tauriel was surprised by her own action now. She raised her hand and touched the King's shoulder, reminiscent of the moment after the battle when he had touched her cheek.
Astonished, his eyes snapped open and he gazed at her. Tauriel's hand fell down and she swallowed, awkward and suddenly alarmed. His eyes were so sad, so sorrowful, his light dimmed. With a dreadful certainty, she knew that he was suffering terribly.
"I worry about you, my lord." The King blinked, uncertain if he had heard her correctly, and then he mournfully shook his head.
"Do not, Tauriel. It is not your place to worry about my wellbeing."
"You are clearly unwell, and with due respect, no one can forbid me to worry about my king."
"I see." He nodded. It seemed that he would speak no more and Tauriel entertained herself with gazing at the skies. He had been right, of course, the attacks would cease, they did every year, but she felt uneasy. The change within their king was so sudden, so unnatural – she was afraid to name the source. She had her suspicions, though, and the longer she sat in his presence, the more certain she was.
"I am considering taking the ship west." He confirmed after a very long silence, when the moon had moved away and they were left only with the dim light of stars.
"We are not ready to be left kingless." Tauriel whispered. His words had caused something strange; there was a ringing in her ears, and her heart dropped. Even though the night was cold, it was only in this very moment that she felt the coldness affecting her. The curious thing was, though, that the feeling started inside of her, moving from her very core outward to the tips of her fingers.
"Alas, this decision lies with me." He answered wearily. "I shall choose the time and manner of my departure from Middle-earth, and no one else."
The elleth bowed, chastised and more than frightened by the tiredness in his voice. The Elvenking was fading. She didn't know why or when the process had started, but she was sure that he needed to sail soon, otherwise he would die.
Her previous worries seemed pointless now, and she was ashamed once more for her own selfishness. She had been too wrapped in her work and her own grief to notice that there was something terribly wrong with the Elvenking. She had failed as Legolas' friend and as the Captain of the Guard – she hadn't protected Legolas' father in his stead, and she hadn't protected her King.
Tauriel blinked, and two salty drops fell on the moss. Was she destined to bring only destruction and pain to those around her?
Beta readed by ShadowLink5. Thank you ;)