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He had matured.

His eyes were colder, his face looked more tired, his hair was longer than she remembered and he carried himself with experienced grace. The simple fact was that the carefree elven prince that she knew back when was not there anymore, there was a king standing before her eyes, a king that had seen and been through hardships and looked as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

His hair cascaded down his shoulders like a river of gold, the same strands she used to tangle her fingers into and his eyes, duller, sharper, his royal robes, his air of royalty, she had to remember how to breathe for a second. A crown was resting atop his head, one that truly completed the image of an elven king and not of a prince, making her very much aware of how thin the ice she was walking on right now was.

When his eyes locked on hers, she felt her whole body revolting against her mind, she felt her insides being torn out, confusing her and twisting her in ways she could not comprehend. Like a wave crashing down on her, the memories of the burning corpses and the foul smell filled her nostrils and her eyes with burning tears –he was the son of the man that let that happen. They kept their pompous behinds in the safety of their kingdom and counted the time that it took to completely wipe out all of her people –she could already hear the late king Oropher, deciding his lunch was probably more important than the battle he was supposed to aid her father in –of course, all were delusions of her mind, but she truly believed in those.

The silence that fell over made her almost cringe, but his eyes were still set on her while the guard kept her in place, his grasp still tight around her waist. Tauriel was the first to speak, stepping in front of Thranduil "My lord, this is the—" but she was dismissed when his gaze snapped to her. "Be silent," he ordered in the calmest tone, making Tauriel nod and step away. His eyes were then back on her, like that of a hawk.

"Release her!"

The guard instantly let go of her, leaving her vulnerable with her feet on the ground, just as the elven king stepped closer, making her breath hitch. This was not how she planned everything, why was she losing control of everything right now? As soon as she gathered her voice, her eyes widened and set on his figure "No!" –the footsteps stopped as her voice echoed throughout the halls, one of her hands stretched out in a 'stop' motion, palm halting the elf. Thranduil was standing close enough for her to see his confused eyes, his arms in mid-air, one of his hands clutching her pendant. Was that how he knew then? She didn't even realize she was breathing heavily until she became aware of her surroundings, the eyes of the guards on her and the king, silence settling uncomfortably once more.

"Leave us!" came another cutting order; she looked away trying to even her breathing, the shuffling of feet around her signaling that everyone was leaving, until there was silence again. She could hear her own heartbeat as she kept her hand up still, hoping that would make him go away. His body straightened, arms at his sides, eyes still burning into her very being. What was she supposed to do now? If she didn't find something to hold onto fast, she was going to fall, so she turned her back to him and slowly limped up to a wooden column, before leaning on it and letting herself slip into a sitting position, this time facing him. She wasn't brave enough to look him in the eyes yet, she needed some fuel to her wrath and he wasn't giving her any. It was overwhelming enough that after so many years, she finally met her past lover. Neither of them said anything and she was thankful for that.

His eyes were still fixated on her, unable to form words yet as he analyzed her quietly, lips pressed in a thin line. Many questions ran through his mind, from how she was alive to why she didn't come to him sooner. It had been eons, she could have found him, no? Why didn't she? His eyebrows furrowed lightly and he turned his body towards her, making her eyes flick over his face, those beautiful pools of ice cold blue sharply holding his captive in the most mesmerizing way. She tensed noticeably, but made no move to stand up or run away, which encouraged him to take a step closer to her. What did she go through that made her so guarded, what happened to his dear beloved all these years? Her orbs never left his as he approached, but once he was close enough, her breathing came out heavily again and he took that as a sign to stop.

Shea felt her heart throb and her stomach leap, it was something she could not describe in words. His poised figure, the exuding confidence in his steps, it all made her feel like a deer being hunted and out-witted with so much ease that it was infuriating.

"Av-'osto." he heard himself speak, trying to make her relax in a sense. The fact that she was hurt did not serve him well, given that she must be in pain and scared. The elven king glanced around him and after seeing that no one was around them, he regarded her, pinning her with his cerulean gaze before ever so gracefully, leaning down on one knee before her cowering figure. She averted her eyes from his and pushed herself further to the wooden column behind her, as if it would swallow her up and hide her away forever.

"Shea," his calm tone angered her, made her close her eyes tight and bite down on her tongue, set her jaw. How dare he say her name? How dare he?! Who gave him the right to? Who gave him the permission to look upon her? Bitter, she suddenly glared at him, something that took him by surprise. "No. I will not. Do not call me by the name, elf. There is no dishonor bigger than an enemy calling a fairy by her given name." the burning rage that boiled within her veins was slowly pouring onto the surface, through the cracks of her façade. She started to tremble, eyes ablaze and set on him with wrath he had never seen before.

He wasn't one to feel control slip from under his fingers, but now he felt as if the world was crumbling from underneath him and he could do nothing to make it stop. Why did she dislike him so? Why did she look at him with such hatred and anger? His lips parted, but nothing came out as he watched the woman before him. She was thinner than he remembered, her hair did not shine like it used to and it was chopped carelessly, her body was weak, he couldn't see her wings or she had none any longer, which could only make him imagine what she had been through, yet her eyes were the same as long ago, sharper maybe, but the same ones that always left him breathless. Most of all, she looked ill, her skin paler than it was, perhaps from the blood loss by the look of her leg and the bandages soaked in red –something that had him frown upon. Now was not the time to ask questions or be reckless, she needed healing and rest. The rest could be discussed at a later date.

"You are hurt, Arwenamin," he spoke again, his tone calm yet strict, something that made old tingles return to her like a wave. Nobody addressed her as such anymore, it was why it caught her off-guard and her hard gaze mellowed for but a moment with what he could identify as sorrow and remembrance.

It felt like eternity as they both stared at each other and then his arms wrapped around her before she could protest, he brought her to his chest effortlessly, cradling her in his embrace, one arm keeping her in place while the other sheltered her under his chin, hand over her once brilliant silver tresses. She screamed and struggled, shoved and yanked, kicked her legs as her cries echoed through the fort. Her spirit had not been quenched, he then concluded, she kept fighting, she kept moving and shaking her body to get rid of him, while his arms only tightened more.

Finally, she exhausted her energy and her angered screams turned to choked sobs of frustration at her predicament. Curses and profanities slipping through red lips as he held her with an iron grip to his chest.

She fell asleep in his arms, weakened from the exertion and bloodloss; the king did not dare wake her up, he stood there with her until he believed it was safe to move her body. He carefully gathered her in his arms and stood up, the sleeping faerie's face hidden in his chest as he walked. The guards he passed by did not say a word, but their stares was inevitable and so was the word that would carry through, it wasn't every day that their king carried a woman in his arms so heedfully –no, he never carried anyone other than his son when he was a child. He left her in the healing chambers with a different healer this time, as the other one refused to take her under her care given the previous events.

...

The murmur that went on through the fortress was anything but friendly or courteous after the king had the strange woman looked after, even when she hurt one of their own and caused such useless commotion. Naturally, Tauriel caught wind of what happened, even as the king dismissed her along with all the guards –it was impossible not to hear the elleths mumble about it, after all.

The captain had to face the king herself over the things that had fallen over her ears. She found him two days later after the commotion, deciding it was the right time to open her mouth, seeing as he was sitting on his throne overlooking a letter and unbothered by his council. As she approached, she noticed how he looked thoughtful, fallen into the depths of his mind, gaze blankly set on the stairs at the throne while his arms draped elegantly over the cape that covered the seat, paper forgotten in his hand.

"Goheno nin, Hîr vuin," she began, bowing at the stairs, snapping Thranduil out of his thoughts with her voice so intruding. He sighed contently and leaned back into his seat, eyes now set on her figure "Mani naa ta, Tauriel?"

"I wish to ask you something, my lord," her eyes met his and he looked rather distracted for some reason. It made her raise her eyebrows at the discovery, but say no more of it. "My lord, why did you aid the woman that hurt our healer? After all the commotion, I do not understand."

Thranduil's eyes were on her, predatory and sharp. His face remained expressionless, but she saw how his right hand twitched slightly at her question. As impertinent as she may have been, Tauriel wanted to know the truth. Just who was this woman that turned their King into a man that aided thieves or helped those that wished their kind ill? It was not like him to do so. Usually, it would have been off with their heads or in the best circumstance, incarcerated for life in the dungeons.

"That…is not really of any importance to you, is it?" his cutting tone echoed throughout the room, making her clench her jaw and swallow. He had a way of placing boundaries, and she was crossing one.

"My lord, I was simply curious why—"

"Tauriel, your curiosity will lead you to trouble in this manner." he interrupted, not even glancing at the red headed elleth that remained unshaken at the feet of the stairs, not daring to glance back up "I believe that is a trait found mainly in humans. Have you forgotten what your heritage is? Need I remind you of your position?" it was time to leave, she knew it.

"Goheno nin, Hîr vuin."

At the wave of his hand, she wasted no time and left, letting out a long exhale of breath she had been holding while there. He intimidated her more than often and it felt exhilarating when she faced him bravely during the battle, when he wanted to leave the battlefield, yet now, she was back to her old self –no longer did she feel courageous.

Stopping by the healing chambers, Tauriel lingered around only to catch a glimpse of the woman that was inside, making sure she did not pull any stunt again, before returning to her duties as it was time for the night patrol. The woods were far from safe, and she needed to clear her head too, finding patrolling a good enough distraction for the time being.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Lathai, maybe…she's not interested anymore?" the woman teased, her sandy brown curls bouncing when she laughed. Lathai, an elf with raven hair and emerald-like eyes, glared towards the human woman that accompanied him, a snarl upon his fair features. "Do not make me regret the day I saved your petty existence from those orcs." he spat, making her flinch away from him and sit down on the rocks near the Long Lake.

"Lathai, I'm pretty sure she would've been here by now. Yer sure she said she gonna come?" the half elf half human asked as well, the male's brown tresses tied into a braided tail that fell over his shoulder as he sharpened his lance.

"Yes." he hissed towards his companions, turning his sharp gaze towards the forest once more, his brows furrowing in both worry and impatience. Shea was part of them, she was part of him and he did not like leaving her alone for long periods of time. Not like this.

...

"I will meet you at the Long Lake, it will not take me long to pass Mirkwood. I wish to ride alone for once." she spoke confidently, drinking from her cup with eyes closed. He couldn't help but admire her determination; his hand slowly cupped the mug from her hand and set it down. "I believe that is enough drinking, Shea."

She wrinkled her nose and her eyes locked on his. Oh, what a beautiful creature she was when she stared him down like this. "I am no child, you know that." she insisted, brushing a hand through her silver locks, dirtied lightly by the road they had gone on before they stumbled upon an old inn. "I know, am I not allowed to tease you once in a while?" he chuckled, ruffling her hair in good fun. He didn't want her to know he would rather wrap his fingers into those tresses and press her against the wall savagely, no, that was too brusque, even for him –the king of thieves, the leader of the night riders.

The purse of her lips made him pause "Very well then. Do you promise you will be there in five days?"

"Yes," she was fast to reply. "At sunset?"

"Yes,"

"Do you promise?" –he leaned in barely, his eyes testing hers, prodding to see if she was genuine. "Yes," she gave him a small smile, leaning back and folding her arms over her chest. He couldn't help the smile that curled on his face either. For a cold-blooded murderer and thief, he was rather eager and soft around her, as if he was young again, young and in love. His companions noticed this too, long ago when Lathai found her cowering in a ditch, wings freshly torn from her flesh, bloody, starving, dirty and crying. He was the only one that stopped his horse and went to help her, the only one that showed her mercy and kindness when everyone else had turned their backs on her.

...

Just thinking about it made him go mad. She was supposed to be here by now and it made him walk pace around in circles, restless and eyes wild. "Calm down, will ya? I'm startin' to get dizzy just by lookin' at ya," his fellow halfling muttered in annoyance.

Lathai's eyes ficked to him cuttingly and in a matter or seconds, his blade was at the throat of the half-elf. "I will not calm down. She was supposed to be here by now. Something must have happened." he spat, pulling the blade away and back at his hip before he went to get his black stallion.

"Lathai! The others are waiting for us in the village near the Sea of Rhun, we have a long ride to there! You are their leader, is it worth it? We can leave her behind, she will find her way!" the woman yelled at him as he mounted the horse, her eyes desperately pleading for him to leave the girl behind and ride with them where they belonged. "I believe she is worth my every effort."

"She has bewitched you! Turned you against us!" the woman began again, hands clung to his leg, making him glare down at her. "Madeline! That is enough." he hissed before he pulled his horse to the side and glanced at his now quiet half-elf companion. "Ruven, ride to the others and tell them I shall be late." and with that he sprung within the deep and dark forest, his mind set on saving his faerie. His? Yes, because the thief king was selfish and possessive, he did not even comprehend the meaning of sharing what he believed was his, be it treasure or people.

...

"I hate your kind!" –she was bold, he could tell that much. Her body was dirty and he could barely make out her features from the dry blood and the mud that tainted her so degradingly. He sat at the table in the room he had bought for the night at the first inn that came into his sight, hoping to get the girl some clean clothes and a warm meal in her stomach, but she did not want to cooperate.

She kept screaming that she hated his kin, that she wished he would die in a fire, that she would rather be dead than breathing the same air as him –something that made him frown. "I heard that the first time you said it." he tried to speak calmly, his eyes on her, unimpressed by her display. "But you are dirty and hurt, probably hungry too, so why don't you stop whining like a pretentious brat and go get yourself cleaned?"that had her stop flapping her lips for the time being.

She glared at him but snatched the clothes he offered her from his satchel and stomped to the bathing room, which was simply a small room with wooden walls and a wooden barrel filled with warm water. As soon as she left, he sighed and ran a hand through his raven hair "What a troublesome woman…" he muttered to himself. While she was gone, he kept glancing towards the room, wondering if she ran or drowned, but when she finally showed herself to him, he could barely contain himself as he drank in her appearance.

He had never seen hair as silver as hers or skin as fair, or eyes as blue and haunting as she had. He had to glance away –it was true what he heard about faeries, they did have an outlandish beauty to themselves. "You cleaned up…nicely." he found himself sputtering, fumbling with the dagger he was sharpening in his hand.

"That is just sad, because your presence still irritates me, elf." she countered with a glare. It was in that moment that the night rider leader fell for the feisty woman that he saved. His eyes caught hers in a frenzy and he stood up, making her step back at his sudden move –but he only came closer until her back was pressed on the wall behind her.

His face was so close that she could see even the small scar underneath his cheekbone, the specks of golden in his eyes like molten lava and how the fair skin contrasted perfectly with the raven locks that draped elegantly over his black armor. "That mouth of yours will not serve you well if you plan to survive," he spoke in a low menacing tone, her breath hitching at the closure. "I am not one of those pompous elves you knew. Let that sink into that pretty head of yours. I am a thief and a mercenary…so choose your words wisely, faerie." he backed away after having said what he needed to and let her soak in the information while he went back to preparing his weapons for the journey ahead.

Shea met the exception to the rule that day, learned to respect the man and follow him, becoming one of his own. Not a race of any kind, not part of any kin, but part of a group of people that did not belong anywhere but together.

soooooo, shea has some secrets of her own!

Av-'osto = don't be afraid

Arwenamin = my lady

Goheno nin, Hîr vuin = forgive me, my lord

Mani naa ta, Tauriel = what is it, tauriel