Disclaimer:

Don't own the majority of the characters, with exceptions of course. If the name does not seem to fit the character in the world, it is probably mine. Not making any money from this, it is a work of fan-inspired drivel from a broken phoenix. It is an AU story that does reflect even the whole storyline of the book or the movies or any games. It stands apart from such things.


The light rose on the woodland and Legolas had just dismissed the last of the elves back to their quarters or to their duties. There had been some that questioned, the ones that were not wasted in the wines, but otherwise it was relatively peaceful conversations that involved no mention of Tauriel or the absence of the royals, a good sign that more than half of the kingdom had forgotten. Legolas would play that to his advantage as much as he could, use it to protect his Father and Tauriel from the rumors that would spread if anyone knew the whole story.

He knocked on the door of training room and proceeded to enter. "Eri, Galion. Fellow guards, leaders, border patrols, Kingsmen. We must keep silence on the matter. What transpired over the course of the feast and the evening, must stay quiet. It would send the entire kingdom, indeed, much of Middle-Earth into an uproar of panic. Panicking men, elves, dwarves, wizards, would best be avoided for the sake of all involved. The movements of evil need to be tracked, but carefully, what happened with Tauriel was deliberate. Not creature related, no spiders involved in it. Darker forces are at work, and we need to support our kingdom as we can. This is the way to best help it now." Legolas spoke passionately. He looked at the faces of his fellow kinspeople and he could see the worry but he could see the understanding spreading amongst them.

"Now, I will organize the day's routines. Keep to the center paths, diverge little. Stay together, and we are adding more to the patrols. I expect six to a patrol at the bare. We are all tired. But, we need to keep the area close by secured. No venturing out. I discourage it. I will go out with the first one of the morning." Legolas spoke strictly, though he was not known for abiding the rules, with the state of being, he found himself unable to send his people out further then needed with the potential danger lurking.

Galion bowed and raised his brows high on his forehead. "You are still going out?" he questioned.

"Yes. Despite what happened, I will continue to go out. Ada needs his best to be doing all they can."

A she-elf stepped forward, her golden hair wrapped around her finger. "Is Taurie alright?" she couldn't bring herself to look at her prince, her eyes stayed locked to the strands of hair.

Legolas looked like the wind had been knocked from him at the question and he dipped his head slightly. "She is unwell. It remains to be seen if she can recover. Her injuries are severe. Ada thinks it must be an orc wound, though he did not speak that. We are going to go about as if there are those vile creatures about. Hence adding more members to the patrols, being vigilant, not going as far. Whoever or whatever it was left Tauriel in a state that makes their intentions clear. It was a warning. We must pay heed." Legolas answered, but he was not unkind, he reached out and he stroked the arm of the elleth.

"We have no time for tears or worries. Let us make sure that this fortress is safe. Tauriel may depend on that in the future." And those that were on routine for morning followed aided by two additional to their group, and the rest went back to sharping weapons and sparring. The kingdoms warriors needed to be at the top of their game. It was starting to look like war.


The sounds would not mull out. Melodies. Chants. Prayers. Spells. The feeling of each washed over her, though she wished the sounds would just drown out. The silence of the darkness was preferable to the incessant noise that ran together in a way that made her head throb. She didn't know where she was, or why she was for that matter, nor, hardly, who she was. Everything was a blur. Fuzzy. Distorted. Why did she feel so odd? Why were adornments of royalty upon her? She was a lowly silvan elleth, she would never pledge love to her friend Legolas, for her heart belonged to another, though he never returned it. Yet, did he? The symbols of bonding and marriage seemed to flutter in and out of her mind. None of it made sense. Her world seemed discolored, like the colors were vivid and then muted.

She felt a tugging at herself. She didn't know what it was. At first, it was annoying. But, as it continued, she found herself giving way to the feeling. More and more. She allowed the feeling to draw her away from the chants and prayers or whatever it was that the people were doing. Everything faded until it was just her and that feeling. As it blossomed, it seemed to make a different light. As quickly as the light came though, it went. And Tauriel was falling faster and faster. The ground must be looming because her heartrate increased and she…


Thranduil had done as the healers directed him to. It was his personal healer, Malatha, save for her two mentees, they were alone with Tauriel, and Malatha had sensed the distress from both. She sensed what had been happening in his heart and knew it had happened in Tauriel's. Of course, any of those that had seen the King acting indignantly while Tauriel was tended were threatened with banishment if ever they spoke of his behavior. He discouraged the story from being propagated around the fortress out of the worry that it would inspire stupid acts of panic, to which his people agreed heartily and went about their way. Most were eager to get away from King Thranduil's prying and watchful eyes that held disapproval of their actions or lack of them.

"You are the only one that can call her back." Malatha whispered. She looked at the mentees that were concentrated on the act of healing rather than the words that the King was passing with Malatha.

He looked at her impassively. "What do you mean?" he asked her, trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

She gave him the look of mother to son, scolding. "Exactly as I have said. Do not try to trick me, King Thranduil, her heart is calling out for another, it is calling out for you. Your heart, though you act as though it were made of stone, is reaching out for hers desperately. It is a bond. One that others will not easily accept. But that time will come later. You must call her out of this. Only you can. Outside of that, healing for her will be hard." Malatha explained patiently. She and the King had grown up together, they had once been good friends, but when he had been made King, friendships often had been hard to maintain, but they remained on bantering terms, just she was in the healers court all the time and he was in the main fortress handling everything from risk of famine to quarter-mate squabbles.

"You believe she will wake?" he enquired, worry crossing over and exhaustion. The light was up and he was accustomed to being asleep at that hour.

Malatha gave him a scathing look at the comment, but she reassuringly touched his arm. "Yes. I worry though, that with the gravity of the wounds she suffered, and the emotional scars she will bear, that she will no longer be able to handle her post. This is quite a trauma, even on one so young and picturesque of health. I fear her career as a warrior is finished. The wound to her neck was quite deep and it was laced with vile things that will need to continue out of her system by our flushing techniques, not only that, but the surrounding tissues of nerve and muscle to her shoulder particularly will be weak and susceptible to serious injury." Malatha looked at the elleth and she felt pity for her.

King Thranduil could barely bite back the joy at those words. His expression shifted to one of sheer delight and a laugh came from him. A deranged sort of laugh. It was short and his face morphed back into the mask, but there were the hints of a smile. "Excellent. It will make good for you to inform her that the weakness prevents you to allow her back to the field. She will remain in the sanctuary of these walls. Not far from my sight." He told Malatha.

Aghast would scarcely describe the expression that Malatha wore at the King's comments. Her eyebrows rose, her heartrate quickened, and pity stirred in her core. Tauriel's career was over. And, the King was rejoicing. Words of protest rose and died on her lips. "Very well. Now, focus on calling her back. The longer she is gone, the more serious things will become, time is important in such an instance, I daresay her sitting a hundred years will not be good on anyone in this realm." She finally grated out, though it was obvious she was not pleased at the King's enthusiasm.

King Thranduil could sense her displeasure. "As King, and," he paused thoughtfully "her bonded one, it is in my best interests and personal choice that she must remain here. These words between us do not leave these healing halls, by anyone, for the time. She needs rest and comfort, not the wrath of many to fall upon her." He looked at Malatha, his steel eyes giving way to a softer emotion, no barrier needed.

"I understand. Unless this has altered her personality, she will be, as my mother used to say, fit to be tied, when I tell her this. You are to make your choices on arrangements after though, and you get to present the news. I will not bear it all to her. And as for word getting about, I will see to it that anyone here forgets anything that has been said, or so shall it be that they will be cast from my halls of healing." She regarded him for a moment and then gestured to Tauriel. It was time for her to wake.

Thranduil nodded. As his eyes looked over her, he felt a wave of sickness hit him. He bit his lip. Closed his eyes. And allowed his fea to reach out. At first, he could feel nothing, an empty, disturbing feeling, but then he could feel the presence of something warm and something familiar and he reached for it with all his fea.


"Tauriel?"

"My King?"

"Come back to the woodland."

A mirthless laugh. "What is left for me there?"

The semblance of a hand touched one that was soft, bent inward with nails digging into palm. "I am. Come back to me, Tauriel."

A gasp emits from her, both at the contact, and at the admission. "My mind has been muddled with strange thoughts. I feel unwell. Why do you want me back? All I do is disobey you, all you do is fight with me, your people are in danger, a threat is growing, but your madness has prevented you from seeing it. My life is but a small cost of war." She spoke, passionately, but it lacked the usual fervor for her.

His hand tucks a stray hair behind her ear. His breath tickles her earlobe as he leans against her and speaks. "And I will fade if you depart." There was raw emotion bubbling up. "I have always wanted to protect you. That is my only goal now, the rest of the elves be damned, I want my Tauriel, the brave and stubborn to come back to me. I would miss arguing with you." He admitted and his fingers tried to lace with hers.

She faltered. Her presence seemed to flicker. The only thing she became aware of was that someone was holding her. A whisper, a cry, anguish all around her as words repeated and again "Come back to me, come back to me, come back to me fiery elleth. Come back to me, my starlight." And then it all faded.


Notes: This chapter ended up moving in a little different direction from what was originally the time-line. There will be some hiccups in this though, so while they may have some cute gooey moments coming up, there will be a lot of tension until we get there. The next chapter is well under-way, but depression is slowing my writing process to a crawl currently. As always, R & R and if anyone wants to be a beta for this story, please drop me a message.