Time does not tarry ever, but change and growth is not in all things and places alike. For the Elves the world moves, and it moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves. The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long, long stream. Yet beneath the Sun all things must wear to an end at last.
–J.R.R Tolkien
EPILOGUE
Life in the Eryn Lasgalen was noticeably different after so many Elves had left it. Thranduil kept their capital within the Halls for the time being. Tauriel did not think it prudent to strain their resources so quickly. They still traded with the nearby realms of Men—lumber for food and such, though it was no longer necessary to procure it in the same quantities.
Thranduil entered the solar, closing the door without too great a care. It clicked shut and the sound echoed loudly in the room.
"Tauriel, the Dalish ambassador has returned our message. He writes that Bard intends to host a feast to mark the autumn harvest in the north. Tauriel? Where—" He strode forward and soon halted when he noticed Tauriel sleeping on her side, atop the elongated sofa in the center of the room. News of King Bard's invitation slipped from his mind as he took in the sight of his wife.
Her hair was spread out over the cushion beneath her but he still couldn't see her eyes for her right arm covered her face. Thranduil frowned, kneeling beside her to observe her breathing. He leaned forward to place a small kiss at the corner of her mouth. Surely enough, Tauriel's lips curled into a sleepy smile. She lowered her arm from her face and slowly opened her eyes. The tawny flecks in her irises caught the light just so.
"Asleep so early in the day?" Thranduil queried. His tone was almost overly formal. Tauriel had to refrain from laughing at his endearing, stifled formality. Doing so would certainly not do anything to assuage his concern. She tried to sit up but was astonished to feel her abdomen cramp. The sensation very nearly prevented her from doing so. Tauriel was sure that none of this went unnoticed.
"I was speaking with the washerwomen at their tasks. Trying to see if they possessed all the necessary supplies. It turns out that they have more than enough for a while seeing as our numbers have recently fallen. I felt…weary after a time. I think their bawdiness wore me out." Tauriel joked, taken aback at the raspy quality of her own voice. Perhaps she was more tired than she realized.
"What may I do for you?"
Her eyes gleamed in contemplation.
"Berries. Bring me all the berries you can find."
"Just a few weeks ago, you ordered all raspberries banished from the immediate vicinity." Thranduil raised a skeptical eyebrow at the request.
"You asked, and that is my answer, lord husband." The title was infused with a tartness that rivalled the flavor of said berries. He huffed in response, a laugh that was not quite a laugh.
"I bid you agree to a compromise. In exchange for the…fruits of my labor," This time Tauriel did allow herself to laugh at his dry pun, "I ask you to report to Nestadeth. Seek her counsel with regard to your lethargy and see what remedies she may have. I will have to return to the council chambers to hear the rest of the discussion."
She sank back into the cushion with a long-suffering sigh, bringing the back of her hand up to cover her eyes again. Internally, she still marveled at the state of affairs between them. That she could employ humor to try to distract him was amazing in and of itself, much more so how he volleyed it right back at her.
Tauriel removed her hand and shifted to lay on her side. Thranduil was still there, kneeling. The way his robes formed a puddle of silk around him did not help her restrain her mirth. He followed her line of sight and realized what she was laughing at. In retaliation, Thranduil tugged her up until she was standing with him.
"Do we have a deal, my lady?" His voice could turn from humor to something else entirely more sensual in the blink of an eye. He held her hands chastely, making no move to place his own elsewhere upon her body. The contrast of his voice and touch caused her pulse to quicken.
The Halls of Healing were a much quieter place now. Its corridors were not so bustling, its rooms no longer full of despairing patients and their families. Tauriel walked leisurely through, though dread seemed to build in her mind and unknowingly slowed her steps.
What if something was indeed wrong with her, as she had long suspected? Tauriel found that she understood her body less and less. Nestadeth caught sight of her approach and set down her task of replacing old bed linens to respectfully greet her.
"I come to you for your knowledge, Nestadeth. In truth, I have not been myself since…" The healer wore no look of surprise at that. "Well, it would be stupid of me to think you couldn't guess what I am referring to."
"My lady, I will spare no effort to aid you. How may I be of service?" Nestadeth set aside the basket of white linens to make space for her queen to sit on the bed. The room was otherwise bare of any ornamentation, as an infirmary should be. Tauriel perched herself on the edge of the thin mattress and folded her hands in her lap.
"When I returned," The queen began haltingly. She met Nestadeth's kind eyes and knew she understood. "When I returned, I had slight pains—no, discomfort, in my middle. And I grew so despondent after a time that I ignored those pains. I neglected my wellbeing, I cared not for sustenance to nourish my body. The king has expressed his concern and I...I know now that I desire to live a full life, not only for my own sake but for his. I feel exhausted, as though I've undertaken some incredible physical feat, when in reality I've rested more luxuriantly than I ever have in my whole life."
The healer sighed. Tauriel watched fretfully as a pensive look came over Nestadeth's face.
"Are you still afflicted by any of those symptoms beside your fatigue, my lady?"
Tauriel shook her head. "The fatigue is most prominent. There is no pain anymore, or if there is, it is so faint so as to be barely noticeable. I hunger for food and drink again. I do not deny myself my share."
"I gather that you also realize your case is far from anything remotely typical that I've seen, my lady. From what I can tell, there may be a far simpler answer. Now that your fëa and hröa have had adequate time to settle each into the other, the pain of dissonance has receded. Your renewed appetite has compelled you to properly nourish yourself once more, judging from the health of your physical appearance alone."
"I don't understand why I feel this way, if you say I seem to be making progress in my recovery."
"It is far easier to discern now." The healer met her gaze and paused her speech as if preparing her for a momentous revelation. "It seems you are five, maybe six moons gone. You are with child, my queen."
Momentous, indeed. Tauriel froze where she sat. Her mind went blank for several moments as she struggled to accept what she'd just been told.
"What? How can this be?" The first night they spent together matched Nestadeth's approximation. There was no other explanation. "It was my understanding that…that this could not happen unknowingly." Tauriel said softly.
She waited for Nestadeth to affirm what she'd said. The healer simply stared back at her with the same kind smile.
"My queen, this is perhaps another facet of the Valars' blessing upon you. Will you not rejoice in it? You will forgive me for being blunt, my lady, but you and I are capable of simple arithmetic. Your spirits have fused together to create this life from the onset of your marriage. Not even death could cleave it from you."
"Why does my stomach not swell as it should?" She croaked, bringing her hands to rest against her belly. She would not have assumed she could be carrying a child from how subtly curved it was. Yet...the curve of her stomach was convex, as if the proof had been there all along. It was just a matter of noticing. She supposed she had only a few more months of ignorant bliss before the evidence would have been incontrovertible.
"I estimate that your child will be borne by the following ethuil, as twelve moons is standard for an elven pregnancy." The healer added.
A litany of doubts and fears shot through Tauriel. She knew not what to think at all. Then as quickly as those fears gripped her heart, she was seized with the force of sudden realization.
"There is purpose left for you in this world. I would see that you remain to fulfill it—but it is your choice, even if you entrusted your happiness to me. You must choose for yourself."
"The music is resilient within you and you will know it when it manifests. There is hope suffusing these lands. It shall be thy pride and glory."
"There is life in you yet, and it reaches toward you for your fëa to return."
Tumnë talmar rahtainë nixenen umir. Yúlallo nárë nauva coivaina, Cálë lómillon tuiuva.
Rose-gold hair, swinging like a pendulum as that little girl ran among a field of marigolds and daisies.
In starlight and in shadow, naneth.
"Elven women are most often blessed by dreams of this ilk. The Valar send messages to us in dreams, Tauriel, and this message is a blessing for you alone. As with all things divinely granted, they will become known in their own time."
"She knew!" Tauriel gasped. Even without her omniscience, the signs were so obvious in retrospect that Galadriel could have probably deduced Tauriel's pregnancy without it. "She must have, how could I have been so stupid? This is why I failed to stop the wildcat's attack. Why the thought of taking a life sickened me at my own expense."
Nestadeth sensed the queen was enmeshed in thoughts and memories that clashed with her new understanding of her situation. She remained silent as she watched Tauriel raise her shaking her hands to cover her pale cheeks. There was a noise somewhere farther down the Hall. It startled the queen out of her reverie and she nearly leapt to her feet.
"Hannon le, Nestadeth. I am grateful to you, but I require solitude. I shall walk, in case the king should ask you of my whereabouts."
"Yes, my lady."
And so the elven queen strode out of the infirmary, in the general direction of the Western Gate. She wanted to cross the river and go out into the forest. Nothing could soothe her more than the scent of the crisp air of early autumn. The afternoon passed fleetly while she walked and walked, her stroll had taken her to the center of the meadow beyond the forest. The last of the late summer wildflowers fluttered in the breeze as she stood among them.
In this place, Tauriel had chosen life. She stood alone and laughed at the simplicity. All of the changes to which she paid no mind converged into joyous truth. No pain or sorrow lingered in her; no darkness obscured her precious secret. How she had gone for months without knowing astounded her. She supposed extenuating circumstances were to blame.
"Tumnë talmar rahtainë nixenen umir. Yúlallo nárë nauva coivaina, cálë lómillon tuiuva." Tauriel recited the lines from memory to herself and recalled Lady Galadriel's translation. The Valarin speech never sounded as beautiful as it did then, now that its true meaning was known to her.
She closed her eyes against the setting sun. This knowledge would not be hers alone for much longer. For as long as she stood amid the sun's gentle brilliance, Tauriel Silivren had no more secrets from herself. She cast off her burdens and felt the weight of the world melt away. With the wind at her back, she returned to the caverns. The corridors and paths were mostly deserted. All the while, Tauriel thought of Thranduil. There was to be a council meeting, but then he would be free of obligations and she would be able to share her news with him. She longed to dispel his worry for her, now that she finally believed she could. Tauriel went to Galion and told him where the king should find her after the conclusion of the session.
When he found her sitting in the courtyard garden amid the falling leaves of the renewed Greenwood's lustrous autumn, she was smiling so broadly that perhaps she did look a bit mad—the thought sent her into laughter that made her cheeks burn with the giddiness of it.
"What is the meaning of this…? Are you well?" The king asked, steadying her by grasping her elbows as she ambled toward him.
Thranduil peered down at her, taken by her radiance but confused by her behavior. Tauriel's love for him burned ever bright within her—in his gleaming silver vestments, he seemed to absorb the colors of the autumn garden surrounding them. His crown of crimson birch leaves adorned his brow. She loved that he chose to wear it. The birch trees had been a gift from the Lady Galadriel to them after the cleansing of the wood. Their forest would continue to prosper, new birch saplings would arise from the loamy ground in the coming spring. The season incarnate stood before her, asking if she was merely alright when in fact she never felt such sheer perfection before in her entire life.
"I am very well, my lord. I have long waited to tell you…I wanted to be certain beyond doubt." Tauriel was still smiling while she awaited Thranduil's reaction. He had his suspicions but she knew he could not suspend his disbelief. Not until she grasped his hands and brought them to rest on her belly, where there was a very slight, curved firmness. Thranduil stared at their joined hands and then he knew and it was a beautiful thing to see comprehension dawn in his face.
She laughed again, happy beyond all measure. His hands gently stroked her abdomen, up to her ribs and then around her lower back. He pulled her to him and her arms wound around his shoulders so her fingers could lace together behind his neck.
Tauriel expected him to make some sort of dry jest at their timing. Instead he said, "How better to begin this Fourth Age?" There was sincerity there. How she thought he would be able to make light of the ruin and despair was inconsiderate of her.
His gaze was deep and endless, it was like staring into a world of possibility. He had never looked this way in all of the years she'd known him. The Elvenking's joy was something elemental like rainfall after a long-lasting drought. Her hopes that he could find true rest and happiness in Eryn Lasgalen, with her, seemed to be within their reach after all of the strife that defined his existence and hers too. Eryn Lasgalen prospered, the light reached every part of their forest now, and his son was settled in Ithilien with Melethril and those of their kin who chose to live in Gondor under King Elessar Telcontar.
Their daughter was born that blessed spring as the woods teemed with life. She was a child born of hope—the first elven child to be born in the new realm of Eryn Lasgalen. Queen Tauriel Silivren knew precisely what they would name her.
Amdíriel.
Author's Final Note:
I can't believe I've finally finished this. Thank you everyone who has left such inspiring and kind words throughout these twenty chapters, your encouragement made this endeavor possible. While I wish I had done some things differently, this was a wonderful writing experience and I hope I was able to give life to this seemingly far-fetched pairing. If you feel so inclined, I would love to hear from you one last time whether it's general or specific feedback. If you'd like to read more of my Thrandiel fics, I'll point you in the direction of my completed story "Till Human voices wake us and we drown" as well as my WIP "On Golden Winds." Until next time, dear readers.