A/N: This work of fanfiction is dedicated to EL's two distinctive works, Kate in Lost and Tauriel in The Hobbit. However, this story carries no plot events that bears any resemblance to the TV program. It is a solely hobbit fanfiction, though with hints reminding you of the TV show. Also dedicated to my friend Victoria, who selflessly gave up forty seconds each day to help me post my story. I do not know how long this story will continue, but at least it will last until I regain my inspiration on continuing From the Riverside, which I started as an eleven-year-old. Please be alarmed that you are reading a youngster's solemn words, and do not hesitate to leave any friendly/unfriendly comments and reviews :D Lilith Evy at your service!

Prologue

"It's a cruel battle." Light footfalls came from not far away, making their ways with difficulty through the repellent piles of corpses laying around the battle field. Still the air was filled with the odd smell of bloods: the filthy dark blood of orcs, and the once-lively blood of dwarves, men and elves. Silentness fell upon the dead and the survivors, as it has always been after great battles of sorrows. The young elf, who was merely six hundred years old, stood to the hilltop as she looks down to the battle field. She was recognizable from slopes around, as her red hair stood out distinctively from the pale corpses of the dead. "Indeed, a cruel battle." She murmured to herself.

She was surprised that there were so many deaths. As the Chief of the Guards, she've been to battles, but not as a huge massacre as what lays before her. Those elves, who were her friends and co-fighters, who once talked joyfully and walked leisurely among the woods. They now lie there lifelessly, their face as pale as sheets. No longer being able to walk, talk or smile again, no longer can shoot another arrow or slay another spider. That happens all the time in battles, the she-elf tried to convince herself, warriors die and that's it. That's it.

Six hundred years, some of them grew up with her. Merilien, who had been friends with her since she learned to shoot. The poor victim of the ruthless war now lied above piles of corpses of elves, orcs, dwarves, men, and those whose body can't be recognized by any races. Her blue eyes were wide open, her right hand still grabbed her sword tight. On her back was a dagger which stabbed through her. Merilien, who once told her lovely girlfriend the elf she was crushing on, who once traveled and rejoiced, was now no more.

But there were so many of them this time.

The elf guard could not hide her emotions anymore. She sobbed, and soon broke to crying. Those elves that she knew for centuries, almost all of her friends. Their lives have evaporated, into thin air, towards the sea. She let this thought soak into her minds as her tears flow freely down her cheeks like beads fall from a broken necklace. She said something with difficulty.

"One."

This was her way of collapsing. First she let the fear or sorrow saturate into her.

"Two."

Then she would cry, she would cry out loud.

"Three."

She would scream, she would yell.

"Four."

But only for five seconds. She let it out, carefree. Only for five seconds.

"Five."

Now she would stop, wipe her tears, and go fearlessly towards whatever awaits her at the very end.

The elf dried her tears with a clean corner of her battle suit. It always worked. Now that she has finished her five second process, she felt not sad anymore. Instead she felt happy for her friends, to shed away all their tiredness and duties, and finally fade away for honour and loyalty. For their souls will rise, and they shall roam above the grey lands of Arda, until they reached the seashores. The blessed lands they would go, needless of boats, and they would stay there without any burdens on their shoulders, in the land of Valinor. There will be a day, when she would set to sail in pure white hoods and robes, and she would meet them there.

She remained thinking faithful thoughts until she see a group of dwarves surrounding and crying over something in a corner of the fields, right in front of Erebor.

"Tauriel." Another elf raced up the hilltop.

The she-elf with flaming red hair, being called Tauriel, removed her hands from her face as she straightened up to see the elf. Her tears shed badly and her face was scorching in a dark pinkish colour. Her eyes swelled and she sobbed so hard that now she cannot say another word. Her hair pumps lightly on her back as her chest flowed up and down. She was shivering, and her hands were as cold as the new-fallen snow in winter times. Now, she cannot hold it back anymore.

She started her true collapse as she heard the tragic cry a dwarf gave:

"Alas, here comes the end of the King's line!"

Tauriel did do a bit study on dwarvish lore and history after she met him. The first place she went was Mirkwood's Library. It was indeed a strange place for her to go, for Tauriel had literally very small amount of time between patrols and feasts. Usually, she'll chat around, take a rest or walk around the woods in her free times. The Keeper was also astonished to see her there, but as he always managed to do his duty as a Keeper, he bowed humbly and greeted her as she pass.

There was a record in Mirkwood's Library about dwarves, though it was now a dusted area and pretty much semi-forbidden. For long ago, when the two races were still in alliance, they kept a close record of what was going on in each other's lands. As the relationships between them became more intense, they no more recorded these informations, what was once treasure to them. Tauriel trotted through the old, dusty shelves of dwarven books coughing, yet she opened her eyes wide with curiosity and eagerness, not willing to left out anything. There, was where she found it. She put her slim finger onto the top of the book with its spine reading "Durin's Folks by Sadoriel Helineth the Minstrel", written in excellent dwarvish script. She pulled the book out, and blew away that layer of dust as she opened the cover.

And then she knew that they were descendants of the great dwarvish King Durin of the past. Her eyes were almost pumping out with joy as she absorbed every single word on the leaves. It was written in both dwarvish and elvish tongues in a clean, swift and beautiful script, obviously of a woman's. Tauriel investigated deeply into every single member of the company, but especially him. There she learned that he was the King's nephew, and the yellow-haired dwarf in the cell next to him's was his brother. Their mother were the Lady Dís of Erebor, sister to Thorin Oakenshield. All of those things, hints and links of the incident unravels before her, Tauriel rejoiced secretly in the heart. She learned how to write his name in Dwarvish, she learned how to call him with his formal title. Oh, how happy she was! She covered her hand in front of her mouth, preventing herself from laughing.

Suddenly a slam of the door waked her from this immersing joy. Tauriel looked back towards the door, but it was to far to see anything. Yet she heard the comer's voice, stern and deep, ordering impatiently:

"I remembered that I ordered those books to be discarded three months ago. How come this is not done?"

Tauriel immediately trembled for a time. It was the King. She shivered for a bit before she calmed down. She continued to read the book, but in a faster pace. The library was large, it would take a while for him to discover her. She must reach page two hundred by then, and she shall continue reading it tomorrow. Tauriel buried herself into the book, her eyes sweeping rapidly through the sentences.

"But, your majesty, what about the dwarvish references? They are precious source of knowledge, sire."

Page one hundred eighty nine... That day, fire and ash covered all. The people of Esgaroth screamed. The horn-blowers blew the last horn, signaling that the city is lost, on the watch tower until the very last second, when the dragon's fire of wrath swallowed them all.

"Do not give me Buts, Keeper. Guide me to the forbidden section."

Almost there... The city trembled, and Erebor, the mighty dwarvish kingdom of the East, was lost. She was so concentrated that she did not even hear the King's words. And she reached page one hundred nighty seven...

"Tauriel, man cerig?" The King asked with dismay and astonishment.

Tauriel gasped as she immediately closed the book.

"He knew, Tauriel. My father knew." Legolas wiped his bow as he informed Tauriel in a grief tone.

"I know." Tauriel nodded for several times, she looked into the sky.

"I tried to hide, although I hated, but I tried hard to hide. He saw you himself, for several times, he said." Legolas gazed with concern at the she-elf, his blue eyes filled with sorrow and an unknown fear. "He blamed you for letting them escape, he said that he saw you sitting by the dwarf's cell at midnight for numerous times, he said that he saw you reading the forbidden books of dwarvish lore."

"All he said was true." Tauriel's eyes now were drawn to an excellent-looking thrush flying nearby. She paused for sometimes then said, "And we both know what is going to happen."

"All those years, Tauriel, all those years my father had cared for you." Legolas shook his head, but he was now in a lighter mood, "And you are turning those affection into anger and hatred, all because of one single dwarf," He frowned at this point, "who was not exactly good-looking. Now he died, all that you wish had go in vain. There is nothing to be done now, Tauriel. He would never forgive you, you know what my father is like." he swallowed, "And... he said that you did not protect me, he said that you did not care for the benefit of the Woodland Realm. Tell me, Tauriel, why?"

"I have no regret for it." Tauriel now smiled. It was a smile of relief, "I had deep affection for that dwarf, that affection I would treasure for the rest of my life. I know that I am going to be... How did you know that?" She gasped again, surprised.

"I heard the maids talk." A drop of tear fall down from Legolas' lid, "My father was not going to tell me about it. He would say that you went with the dwarves and sworn not to leave the dwarf again. He would tell me that you... you did a lot of unfaithful things, leave me hopeless, then guide me to a new start."

"Legolas." Tauriel walked towards the elf, "Your father is a brave, decisive Elvenking. He did this for your good, and I hope that you would remain loyal, and you would still love him as a respectable figure of father. It's time, Legolas, you should seek a new start. A war just ended, and there is nothing left for me anymore. It is time, for both of us, to start at a new milestone."

"You should've listened to me when I told you that he was no less ugly than the other dwarves."

They broke out laughing, "I know. But he is taller than the others."

They looked towards the horizon.

Man cerig: What are you doing