Chapter 10:

Tauriel walked to her chambers quickly though she had no need to rush. Upon arrival she was grateful for her simple taste in décor—there was nothing to remind her of Faervel, or more recently, Legolas. She did not know what to make of what had just transpired. He had declared himself to her and created many more questions than he had given answers. She sat on a simple wooden stool before her mirror and took out the plaits in her hair, brushing the knots out slowly. To distract herself, she tried to decide what to wear for tonight but again her indecision plagued her. Who would she be dressing up for; Legolas or Faervel? She knew she could not please both.

Sighing in frustration, she rose to go to the baths, knowing the warm water would relax her. She genuinely cared for Faervel, and was willing enough to give him a chance. But Legolas, he was her friend…and to engage in a romantic relationship with him sparked fear in her. Distressed of what Thranduil would say, if others would regard her differently, how her very relationship with him would change. And if it ended up failing—she would certainly lose the special friendship they had had forever. Furthermore, she would eventually be queen, a role she did not feel fit to take. She was a warrior, her home was the battlefield; there everything was clear and definite. There always black and white, everything amounting to life and death. Yet this, this was a battle of the heart; infinitely malleable, smeared in shades of grey, and ruled by emotions so powerful, yet so fickle.

Regrettably, she could not hide forever in the warm water which surrounded her body, but at least she was clean now. She dried herself and returned to her room, still having decided what to wear. Picking a dress was a hard enough task for her, and here she was trying to pick a man! It was ridiculous, she frowned, but found at least some humor in it. Many elleths would love to be in her situation, whilst she wished she was anywhere but. Oh the irony, she thought.

After inspecting her rather small wardrobe, Tauriel decided on a dark burgundy dress she hardly ever wore. It reminded her of her mother, the few memories she still had of her, and how she often wore a similar color. Her mother was beautiful, she remembered, and strong. She wished for her strength and guidance now, but knew she was up among the stars. Unlike other gowns, this dress had no silver thread or sparkling embellishments. Its decorations were purely in the fold of the heavy material, and how it created shapes with lines and pleats which wrapped around her body elegantly. She liked its simplicity, it suited her.

For her hair, she had thought to simply redo her braids but felt the urge for something different. She had already done so many new things why not change her hair? She pulled back two strands on either side of her head and held them together with pins. No braids to be had—she smiled at how the small change made her feel bold.

Finally, she was ready and instead of going out, set about putting her room in order to avoid facing everyone again. As she straightened the books on her table for the third time a knock came at her door.

"Tauriel, the king commands your presence," A royal guard announced. Having nothing more to do she nodded and followed. The gold sash she had worn previously lay forgotten.

Thranduil stood on the rocky ledge, overlooking the vast cavernous palace. He knew it was finally time to intervene between Legolas and Tauriel, yet he wished it were not so. She was a skilled warrior, fearless, determined, a faultless Captain—quickly gaining the favor of many, including his son. He knew enough of love to know that while she seemed comfortable with Faervel, she would ultimately not choose him. Today at the fight, the way Legolas looked at her, and even on occasion she at him—he knew where that would lead.

The age of the elves was coming to an end, his hope for maintaining their race and kingdom was by uniting with another powerful elven stronghold. Lothlorien, Rivendell, even some of the smaller strongholds in the east, a union with them would ensure his people survived. He had only one heir, Legolas, to make this match. Tauriel, for all her merits, could not unite the kingdoms. It aggrieved him to bring pain to his son, but was that not what true sacrifice called for? For the continuation of his people, his own race, he had to forsake the happiness of his only son. Such were the duties of being a king, however challenging they might be. Legolas would be king one day, then he would understand.

There were many beautiful princesses, such as those visiting from Rivendell, Legolas could surely marry. Though perhaps not initially, affection (even love) could grow from respect and admiration. Legolas, and his people, would endure. He heard her footsteps and set his jaw into a grim expression before turning to meet her.

"Quel dagora, Tauriel," he spoke before she had the chance to acknowledge him. "Amin en ile desiel ten' lome." He noticed she was not wearing Faervel's sash but said nothing, it was further confirmation.

"Thank you," she said, speculating as to why he had summoned her. It did not appear it was on business of the guard, for he did not have the martial tone in his voice; instead it was more calculating.

"Beating Legolas was no easy feat," he began, his gaze unwavering as he looked to see how she would react at the mention of the prince. Tauriel smiled slightly at the compliment. "He has grown very fond of you." Now she looked up in surprise, not expecting to meet the king's eye, and quickly looked away.

Her mind raced as she thought of her conversation with Legolas mere hours ago. "I assure you, my Lord, Legolas thinks of me no more than a Captain of the Guard." Thranduil noted how she cast her eyes downward, not meeting his stare, her voice emotionless.

"Perhaps he did once," he said suggestively. He walked behind her towards a platter set with wine. As her brushed past her he met her astonished look and continued; "now I'm not so sure."

Tauriel did not know what to think, much less what to say. Thranduil stood with his back to her as he poured a cup of wine, the silence speaking words unsaid. She knew of course he would disapprove of her and Legolas, but did not think he would go out of his way to tell her, especially now with Faervel.

"I do not think you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly Silvan elf," she said finally, without realizing a small smile hinted at her lips.

"No, you're right I would not," Thranduil said curtly, not bothering to look at her. Her reasoning was partly true, but not worth his time to tell her why. She knew she was not suited for him, and that was enough. His words affected Tauriel more than she thought and she looked down again, officially knowing any relationship she might have with Legolas was explicitly forbidden. "But still, he cares for you." Tauriel did not bother to lift her eyes; she felt as if she had been struck. "Do not give him hope where there is none."

Tauriel felt her eyes moisten and willed herself not to shed a tear. To do so would be confirmation; not only of Thranduil's speculation but of her own feelings. She hated crying, and so she dug her fingernails into her palm to keep the semblance of a straight face. However she remained silent, again not knowing what to say. Thranduil turned back towards her and offered her a cup. She accepted it, he was her king, but did not drink.

"However, I believe Faervel has taken quite an interest in you." Tauriel felt extreme discomfort talking to her king about her personal affairs, but knew she could do nothing. "He believes you return his affections."

"Lord Faervel had been very kind to me," Tauriel agreed, finally speaking something she could be sure about, "I am honored he has sought me out." She hoped he wouldn't press her for her feelings for him, which were now much more complicated due to Legolas' declaration.

Thranduil debated telling her what he knew and finally decided to make his position clear. He softened his voice, "He has come to me, requesting me to allow a ceremony of binding under the light of the valar on the night of Kalina."

Tauriel couldn't hide the shock and let out a slight gasp. She knew he liked her but she did not think he would declare himself so soon. Was this what Legolas had warned her about?

The king observed her reaction coolly. "I have granted him his request, and now it remains for you to accept."

"Why are you telling me this?" She did not know if he meant to intimidate her, to sway her, to embarrass her…she truly was at a loss.

"Because he also requested something else. He asked that if you should accept, and eventually marry, that I allow you to retain your position as Captain of the Guard."

Tauriel's eyes lit up; this was more than she could have ever hoped for! All her anxiety was always due to feeling like she would lose a part of herself if she chose between her duty and her heart. And yet, Thranduil was not known for his benevolence and so she quickly reigned in her joy. She waited for him to continue, certain his true intention would be made known.

"I of course rejected the idea, but I have decided to change my mind. You may marry whomever you like, be it Faervel or another, and retain your position. As long as you stay away from Legolas. Forever." He took a drink from his cup, watching innumerable expressions cross her face. He took a seat on an ornate chair, satisfied at having completed his original intent. "You may go now. Consider your fate wisely," he murmured as she left; just loud enough for her to hear.

Tauriel walked away quickly, her feet taking her down the familiar corridors though she knew not where. Her brow furrowed as she was deep in thought; rounding a corner quickly and knocking straight into Legolas. He could tell she was clearly distracted since she would have been able to hear his footsteps long before she saw him.

"Forgive me, haba heru," she mumbled, not looking up to meet him. Of all the people to run into it had to be him. Legolas was even more surprised at how she regarded him.

"What troubles you?" He asked tenderly, genuine concern gracing his features. He wanted to comfort her, but she seemed to only want to be as far away from him as possible. Earlier she had not said anything about reciprocating his feelings, but she had not seemed afraid. He took her hand and caressed it, "tell me, melamin, I can help you."

Her eyes snapped up at him and she simply shook her head. Her lips parted as if she wanted to speak, but closed again. As he looked into her eyes he realized that he had mistaken fear for sadness. She seemed pained, distant, alone. He waited expectantly for her to eventually answer but she did not; she simply stood there with her eyes cast downward.

Tauriel wondered if she would tell him in different circumstances. Circumstances that did not involve her knowing Thranduil could hear every word of the conversation. She had not made it far before encountering Legolas and knew the halls echoed every word.

"Tell me," Legolas repeated, this time his voice flat. If she would not tell him as a friend then as her prince he would command her too.

"You must forgive me, my Lord. I cannot join you tonight at your table, or for the dance. It is not my place." Could he not see her desperation? She began to turn away, hoping he would say no more.

"Tauriel," his voice was gentle again, "you're place is by my side." He kissed her hand which he still held before letting it drop. "I will see you tonight." He took his leave of her then, a determined expression settling upon his face.

Unseen, Thranduil stood processing what he had just heard. His suspicions confirmed, he was gladdened he had ordered Tauriel to stay away. Of course, he realized that she must have known the whole time how Legolas really felt about her, but at least she seemed to know her place now. He faintly heard the pucker of a kiss and his brow furrowed. Perhaps not, he thought, cursing his son for inheriting his own stubbornness.

Faervel sat in his study and felt…uncomfortable. Though he knew it should not, the image of Tauriel and Legolas on top of each other seared his mind. This, in addition to his encounter with the intoxicated prince, made him wonder how exactly their friendship manifested. He had thought her greatest impediment to accepting him was how it might affect her duties as Captain, but now he wondered if there was something else standing in her way. As much as this pained him, Legolas was his prince and could harbor him no ill will.

He knew this matter could not be solved by devoting more gifts to Tauriel—her heart could not be bought. Furthermore, he did not want her to choose him out of a sense of gratitude. He looked up and it seemed so long ago that they had shared an intimate moment in this very spot. To him it had been a confirmation of her affections. He sighed and felt a profound sadness overtake him—sorrowfully unsurprised that after so much good fortune, he knew all along it could not last.

"My lord," he heard a knock at the door, his attendant. "Should you not prepare for tonight?"

For a fraction of a second Faervel debated foregoing tonight's activities. He quickly threw the thought out of his mind and told his man to enter. The elf took in his master's appearance and knew much work had to be done, especially with the unkempt hair which urgently needed to be brushed.

Faervel stood and walked towards his dressing room, avoiding looking at his reflection.

"Have you selected garments?" the elf asked, hoping to have a clue into Faervel's state of mind.

"No." Was the lackluster reply he received. He thought of something that might brighten his spirits.

"I saw the lady Tauriel on my way here. She was dressed in a very beautiful red gown. I believe this tunic would complement her very well." He pointed to a dark brown, almost black, ensemble. Faervel's ears pricked, Tauriel was dressed elegantly? Perhaps not all hope was lost. Faervel suddenly took a very active role in his appearance, much to the concealed amusement of his servant.

Author's note:

The ceremony/blessing Faervel asked for isn't an engagement or anything, it's just like formally announcing two elves are courting. They haven't known each other long, but the reason he asks so quickly is because it is especially good fortune to commit under the light of the Valar, which rarely happens and makes this festival special.

Thranduil has great hearing and all but he can't differentiate between where Legolas kissed Tauriel so he doesn't know it's on her hand.

Next chapter will be the actual festival which should be full of drama for our beloved characters ;)

Thank you for all your ideas and keep them coming! I'm training to run a marathon and in the 2+ hours I'm running it helps to have novel ideas to consider. So please review!

Quel dagora = well fought

Amin en ile desiel ten' lome = I see you are prepared for tonight

Haba heru = my lord