"You had true love, once. And you know it's not that easy."

Thranduil watches her cry, watches her cradle the dwarf prince's body to her as best she can with an injured arm, and his heart thuds painfully in his chest. Another lifetime ago, he was kneeling in her place, cradling the broken body of his beloved, never to see her again. The memory is unwelcome, the pain even more so, and he feels tears burning behind his eyes.

"But it can be!"

She asks him why it hurts, begs him to take the pain away, but he knows it's not possible. She is fortunate, he thinks. She was only in love with the dwarf from afar. They were never intimate, or even overly close. Oh, the love was true, without a doubt, but it was young and new, it had not yet had the chance to grow into her heart and entrap her forever. She would survive this. As he almost had not.

"No, it's messy!

She is a wreck. Thranduil has to carry her back to the healers, and she clings to him like a child, her face burried in his neck as she sobs. He is reminded of when he first found her - a little girl alone in the woods, covered in the blood of her parents and plagued by a pain that he had no power to heal. This time, however, things are a bit different. This brand of pain, he is all too familiar with. He can guide her through it, help her avoid closing herself off, as he has done with himself. Perhaps, this time, he can offer her some relief.

It means arguing

The healers are hesitant. They, like all in his army by now, have heard what she did. That his Captain turned her back on her people for a dwarf, that she threatened her king at arrow point. He cannot possibly explain to them how dear to him the foolish child is, how even when staring down the point of her arrow he had not been worried because he knew she would not harm him. How he knew her well enough to know when her threats were empty and desperate. How - had his son not intervened, and had she said that yes, she was willing to die for her love - he would have gone with her himself to Ravenhill, to try and save her dwarf, if only to spare her the pain of losing him.

and making up

Tauriel tells him quietly that he should have left her with Kili, and he knows what she is really asking. He simply tells her to be quiet and settles onto the makeshift cot next to her. The only other presence is his personal healer, and so he does not hesitate to pull Tauriel's small, trembling body against his side, holding her close and stroking her hair as she fights back another round of tears. The healer raises an eyebrow, but a sharp look from him stops any questions before they are asked.

and laughing and-

He has to help pin her down for the healer to pop her dislocated shoulder back into place. The healer takes her injured arm and he grabs the other at the shoulder. Tauriel reaches to clutch his wrist out of instinct, and he leans his weight into her. The healer gives him a small nod, then sharply moves her arm. Tauriel cries out in agony, straining against his hold, but then there is a loud click and she goes limp. Thranduil slowly releases her, straightening up, and she quickly drapes her uninjured arm over her eyes, her breath hitching in what starts as hysterical laughter but quickly devolves into sobs.

He wonders if she thinks this is his way of punishing her.

...and crying

He stays by her side. He can give orders easily enough from where he is, and with Legolas gone, he has no one else that he would truly consider himsef close to. So he has a chair brought for himsef, a blanket brought for her, and he settles himself at her bedside. She is lying on her uninjured shoulder, her back to him. She tries to silence her grief so he will not hear, but it is in vain. He listens to her cry until she has no more tears to shed and her exhaustion drags her into unconsciousness.

and struggling

His advisors are all giving him judgemental looks, and he feels his normally icy temper flare into something hot and burning. He is the king. This is his decision. Tauriel comes back with them - not negotiable. But still they beseech and question - is that really smart? She threatened you once, are we sure she won't do so again? Can you really trust her? It will look bad if you go back on your commands now. What kind of example will this set for your people? But he will hear none of it. The thought of leaving her alone is enough to make him feel ill, and he repeats himself once more before standing and walking out of the tent.

and sometimes it doesn't seem worth it,

They attend a sort of mass funeral service for those fallen in battle. The kings each take turns to speak to the assembled crowd. Everyone is somber, quiet and defeated in their mourning. The smell of smoke and burning orcflesh still hangs in the air, and the dirt and rocks beneath their feet are still painted with blood, a grim canvas depicting the destruction that took place here. Debts are settled, hesitant alliances drawn up, and the King Under the Mountain is buried in a private ceremony with his two sister-sons. Dain does not want any elves at the service, but between what is left of Thorin's company and Thranduil's thinly-veiled threats, Tauriel is allowed to attend. Thranduil waits outside the gates of Erebor, and finds himself strangely grateful to the elderly dwarf who walks a grief-stricken Tauriel out to his side after the service ends. The dwarf presses a dark stone into her hand, folding her delicate fingers around it firmly, and murmurs something to her in a soft voice. Tauriel nods, and the dwarf gives him a quick bow before returning to his mountain realm. Thranduil places his cloak about Tauriel's shoulders, his fingertips barely brushing her lower back, and walks with her back to the elven tents.

but it is.

She is silent. Her tears have at long last run dry, and she is left with whatever empty shell of her former self remains. She stares at the stone, her fingers tracing the runes again and again. Thranduil makes plans for the return to his kingdom. Transport for the dead and injured, supplies for the journey, a collection of anything they can spare for Bard's people, and of course the jewels. Dain, to his credit, had sought to start things out on the right foot by paying the people of Laketown what had been promised to them, and by giving him back the jewels he sought. How trivial they seem now.

And in the end, no matter what happens, you forgive each other.

He returns to the tent to find her gone. A few minutes of panicked searching finds her walking north, a small bag of food thrown over one shoulder, following the line of the mountains to Valar-knows-where. He calls her back, reigning his horse to a stop at her side and waving away her pathetic half-explanations about being banished and not wishing to burden him. Confusion consumes her features, but he merely offers a hand, pulls her up onto his horse, and turns back for camp. He can feel the tension in her, knows she's dying to ask him somthing but is not sure how to voice it, and lets her brood silently as he thanks every diety he can name that he found her before she got far.

I forgive you, for what you did to me,

"Why?" she asks, her back to him, her head bowed as if afraid her question will anger him. "Why are you...why would you care what becomes of me?" However it is not anger he feels at her question, but hurt.

"Do you truly believe I care so little for you?" he asks in a whisper. He can see her brows draw together, her lips part slightly as she considers his question. When she at last does reply, it is quiet, almost frightened.

"Because I have done something unforgivable. Even if you had cared once...you no longer have a reason to." She is quiet for a time after that, tears streaming silently down her cheeks, and he toys with a lose link in his chainmail as he debates how much to reveal.

"I have already lost Legolas," he admits at last. "I will not lose you as well."

because I love you."

He doesn't wait for her to reply, instead he crosses the room and kneels before her, taking her head in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Pack your things, Tauriel. We head for home at sunrise."