Quick Note: Obvious disclaimer. I do not claim any ownership to Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit or any of the characters listed therein. Tauriel was created by Peter Jackson, whereas a slew of other characters were the mastermind of the late J.R.R. Tolkien. I offer my thanks to two such wonderful people to bring such a wonderful series to the big screen. And another thanks to Howard Shore, whose musical masterpieces inspire me as I write.
Prelude…
It was pitch black as I leaned against the tree trunk and gazed at the star glistening in the heavens. From age to age, my ancestors…my people had celebrated the pure, bright light of the stars that dance about in the heavens…in their celestial dance. I often came to this tree to get away from the monotony of great feasts in the banquet hall and engage in some quiet time. Days were spent carrying out the orders of my great King Thranduil, but my nights were my own, when I could be who I truly wanted to be. I so often sought the solace of peace and the pleasant blessings that it entails. Here I could dream my dreams…I could sing my songs to the stars…I could do whatever I wanted. Back inside of the kingdom, I was the Captain of the Guard, something to be envied and admired but at times, I felt completely trapped. Here I could be me without thought of repercussion.
"Tauriel…" A deep voice uttered my name over the dark of the night. For a moment my heart had stopped and I had thought to myself, 'Is that my father's voice? Is he calling me?' Then I shook my head, chiding myself for such a ridiculous thought.
"There you are." It was Prince Legolas's voice, his expectant tone from the sound of it. Clearly he had expected to find me here, as he often had done. On a couple nights, the two of us would sit in this tree and talk about the tales of our people, the tales of our ancestors. He was my friend but I never forgot that he was my prince above all things. I owed him allegiance and respect. It was never that way with our other friends in the Tirith o Taur or "Guardians of the Forest". I could tease them, play jokes on them, and laugh with them. However, whenever it came to Prince Legolas, I always was on my best behavior.
"Of course I am here, mellon. Where else would I be?" I sounded a little standoffish but oddly warm at the same time. He stood next to me, his lean frame shifting to relax against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree as he glanced at my opened journal.
"What is that you have there?" He motioned, quirking an eyebrow as he often had a habit of doing. Before either of us could bat an eyelash, I slammed the book shut and quickly stored it away in privacy.
"Something that is private." I was quick to respond then changed the topic of the conversation, adding. "What transpires in the great hall this night?" Legolas smiled in a way that he often did, his lips curling a little, shaking his head slowly, "You are missing such a great evening. Laerorn and Brethil are in a contest. The loser will have to clean the boots of everyone in the Guard."
"That is absurd." Was all I could bring myself to say, laughing quietly.
"I make my way back to the great hall. Will you come?" He spoke to me as a friend, not as a prince speaking to a subject. I paused for a moment then nodded slowly, "Yes. I will be there soon." With that, he pushed himself away from the trunk of the tree then nodded at me, smiling as he made his descent from the tree, leaving me very much alone.
I smiled to myself as I thought, 'What a blessing it is to have such friends.' I carried my journal within a pouch beneath my attire, careful to keep it tucked away. Although Prince Legolas was my good friend, he often was curious and wanted to know my thoughts…to know my secrets. I would reply to him that my secrets are for none but myself.
Recently I had become quite awkward around the prince. There had been rumors and whispers that my good friend had developed something more than friendly feelings…that he had become amorous. Quite frankly, it frightened me. No one developed feelings for me. I was a member of the guard…akin to "one of the men" as humans are apt to say. He had taken more of an interest in what I did and what I said. One thing was certain, no one would get a hold of my journal…not Laerorn, not Brethil, and most certainly not Prince Legolas.