Authors Note:
I'm done with it so I figured...why not post it. Why should I make you wait?
Thanks Lexie Lewie and Moonpetals...more of my fave Elf King...mwah!
AW
Whatever the warmth Thranduil had shown her, it was still time for inquisition; Tauriel would not be let off that easily for her defiance. Thranduil reverted to being her stern king after ensuring Tauriel knew just how important she was to him.
Tauriel knew she had much to answer to, yet much to conceal. She was exquisitely careful with her words and did not indicate timing; she avoided Thranduil's eyes, which were knowingly questioning. Thranduil walked around Tauriel slowly, arms crossed, his words few, his ears listening intently to whatever Tauriel dared tell him of the occurrences of the last few days.
"I did follow the orks as they left our lands, my lord, all the way to Laketown." She started. "They were following Thorin and his company."
"How do you know this?" Thranduil asked.
"Because they attacked the house in Laketown where the dwarves were." She answered, surprised she was keeping her calm. "Legolas trailed me and eventually accompanied me. He did bid me return to Mirkwood, but I refused." She admitted. At that, Thranduil shot her a glance. "He stayed with me, largely to keep me safe, I believe." She said, trying to take on most of the blame for his son's disobedience.
"Legolas makes his own decisions." Thranduil said pointedly. "Go on." That shook her a bit, yet she continued.
"We killed most of the orks that attacked the Laketown house, but I found one of the dwarves severely ill. Kili was dying from the ork poison." She said. "I was trained to be a healer; I could not leave our former prisoner to perish in such a painful way, not when it was within my power to save him." She justified. Thranduil turned around slowly.
"The black haired archer…" he said, remembering the discussion with the ork, looking back at Tauriel.
"Yes, the very one" she said. " Kili is Thorin's nephew." Tauriel added. Thranduil paused as he walked around her.
"Go on." Thranduil looked away. The fact that one of the heirs of Durin was in their midst was important information. Tauriel took a deep breath.
"Next, the dragon attacked while I was with Kili, and we escaped into the woods." She said. "We fled to survive while hiding from the dragon. I found our old lodge in the forest." Thranduil looked up at her. Tauriel swallowed and continued, quickly. "I took some of the weapons from the lodge and armed us…"
"You gave our weapons to a dwarf?" He groaned.
"So that we could protect ourselves and hunt." she responded. "We were struggling to stay alive in the woods." Thranduil shook his head in frustration. Tauriel continued. "Kili's wound healed slowly; he could not move with any speed. I would not leave him alone in the woods." Tauriel admitted, as Thranduil looked at her with mild annoyance. "Because…we became friends."
"Friends…" he said, the word sounding foreign in reference to dwarves.
"Yes, and it was a good thing because we happened on an ork pack in the forest one night. We fought together to defend each other, but I became badly wounded." Thranduil looked up with concern. "I would have died, had Kili not helped; he healed me." Tauriel let out a silent sigh of relief. Enough information given, without too much revealed.
Thranduil floated around Tauriel slowly, his thoughts twisting within his mind.
"Without your intercession, the sister-son of Thorin Oakenshield would have perished." He summarized. Tauriel nodded. Thranduil looked away. "Yet, without his intercession, you would have perished."
"Yes, my lord." She said. Thranduil nodded his head and closed his eyes.
I have a dwarf to thank for saving the life of an elf I hold dear. Could it be that these two young souls, not poisoned with our tumultuous history, could birth a new alliance between dwarves and elves? Could the children of Uluvatar and Aule's creations learn to live together again in amity? He mused within. Thranduil turned around, his penetrating grey eyes upon her again.
"One last question, Tauriel." He said. Tauriel steeled herself. "Why did you go after the dwarves?"
Tauriel looked straight forward, her eyes drifting downward as she felt Thranduil's presence before her, the moments drifting by. Why indeed…she felt brevity was the most prudent way to explain.
"I felt I had to, my lord." She admitted, looking up, directly into his eyes.
Thranduil looked at her crossly. He felt Tauriel was not being completely forthcoming, yet he sensed further questioning would be fruitless. Brashness was not a good excuse. What other reasons she could have to do what she did he could not fathom…he turned around quickly and strode to the front of the desk, his back to her.
Thranduil recalled his son's state upon his return to Mirkwood; the wound on his face, the battle worn clothing… Thranduil knew Legolas would follow his own lead despite his father's orders. And he feared Legolas would again follow this Silvan elf into danger.
"You risked your own life, and possibly the life of my son with this." He said intently, turning his head to the side, so she could see his face. "Do not let my son's fondness of you become a danger for him." Tauriel held her breath.
"Of course, my lord." Tauriel whispered, the rebuke sinking deep into her soul. "It will not happen again." Silence filled the tent as Thranduil stood still. He eventually turned to face her, his body relaxed, his eyes less harsh.
"Make sure you have my healers have a look at that wound." He said, in a gentle tone.
Later that night, Thranduil hosted Bard and his children, Javer, and Ronin, as well as a group of some of the women and men of Laketown in his tent for dinner. Legolas and Tauriel were there as well, instrumental in easing the tension. In the beginning, the men obviously felt out of place, but hunger and thirst soon overcame their awkwardness, when faced with such fine food and wine from the King's table. And Thranduil found the playful innocence of Bard's children refreshing.
Thranduil spent some time observing the men who Legolas had specifically invited, and even though they all denied having a particular leader since the demise of the Master, it became clear who was the Lakeman who was held in the highest regard in the room; Bard the Bowman, as he was now being called, because of that faithful shot that finally slay the dragon.
Thranduil saw the shadows of his ancestor, Lord Girion, in Bard's face and solid stature, and the same quiet strength and dignity that had defined the former leaders of Dale. It was obvious to the ancient elf who was best suited to lead the survivors of Laketown into Dale, through the upcoming days. And he felt it necessary to warn him of what he knew of the dwarves. Eventually, Thranduil separated Bard from the crowd, and engaged him in serious, quiet discussion.
Bard was simply in awe of the generosity of the elves; and was surprised when Thranduil led him outside, to converse with him in the relative privacy of the night. They looked over the remains of Laketown with sad faces.
"And what of your plans for your people?" Thranduil asked, as he turned his head slowly.
"Our plan is to go to Dale, resettle there." Bard said. "And request that Thorin compensate the men of Laketown for the destruction caused by Smaug." Thranduil looked back at him with a cool demeanor.
"So I have heard." Thranduil said, "And why would Thorin comply?"
"Thorin himself promised that the riches of Erebor would again flow into the valley. We need to collect our just dues for aiding him on his journey. It will be used to rekindle the fires of Dale, so that man and dwarf can become goodly neighbors once again. " The corners of Thranduil's mouth rose with a sly smile.
"You may have to reason with a dwarf king who has lost the ability to reason." Thranduil warned.
Bard nodded, and rubbed his beard. Bard did believe Thorin was a good and proud man, but one who put the reacquisition of his kingdom above all else, including the lives of his men. But he also sensed a darkness, a bitterness that ran deep in the regal dwarf.
"We do not wish to rob him of his gold. They are but twelve dwarves in a stone kingdom rich in treasure, but without food or other necessities; surely, in due time, he will realize quickly he and his kingdom cannot exist in isolation." Bard said. "I hope…"
"Hmm. Hope is admirable, but having alternative plans… is wise." Thranduil urged.
"If not reason, then hunger will convince, I think." Bard said. Thranduil nodded and grunted.
"Where did the dragon fall?" Thranduil asked. Bard looked hard over the lake, and in the clear night he located the spot Smaug entered the water.
"Over there…I believe. It was aflame when it landed; and it created quite a wave." He answered. "I was relieved the arrow found its mark."
"It is quite the feat; to slay a dragon." Thranduil said, looking at Bard with reverence. Bard looked towards the town, the events of that night flowing through his mind again.
"Truth be told, it took man, elf, and dwarf working together, to kill the dragon." Bard admitted. Thranduil looked over the water then sheepishly back to Bard. Humility was a fine attribute for a statesman.
"As it was in times of old so shall it be again; the most important of wars has only been won when our peoples have joined forces." Thranduil said. Bard nodded in agreement. "There is much to be gained from the dragon's hide for the effort." Thranduil mused. Bard looked at him with knit brows.
"What do you mean?" he asked. Thranduil pursed his lips and drew his sword. Bard stepped back. Thranduil took the shimmering sword in both hands and presented the hilt to Bard. Bard ran his fingers down the exquisitely carved handle, which was an eerie bluish grey color, polished to a metallic sheen.
"The blade is steel forged by the finest ancient elven smiths, and the hilt is made from the heart of a dragon's tooth." He said, glancing back up to Bard. Bard nodded in understanding. Thranduil re sheathed his sword with a flourish, after gazing at the blade. "Dragon skin is prized in the making of armor, the teeth and claws used for weapons, the eyes for magic and other parts are used in a variety of ways." Thranduil remarked, nonchalantly.
"But the dragon has fallen beneath the water's edge. To what depth we do not know…" Bard said. Thranduil nodded.
"Like most evil things that have been left to fester and rot, it may yet rise to the surface once again." Thranduil replied, with a faraway glance to the south.
"We cannot wait for the carcass of a dragon to rise out of the lake in order to ensure the survival of these people." Bard said. "And we cannot fight without weapons or shelter." Bard nodded slowly, having the distinct impression the Elf King was not just speaking on dragons…Thranduil stayed still, staring south as if listening for something distant.
"A dark wind is stirring." Thranduil murmured.
"What do you sense on the wind?" Bard asked, looking briefly southward, knowing the old elves had mystical powers, and greater senses than man. There was something that unsettled the ancient, powerful king. Something that was more perilous than the trials of the men of Laketown.
"I fear the time for fighting is not yet over. And next time, it will take more than a single black arrow to win the battle." Thranduil said, eyes still cast southward. "Wars between neighbors cause the most destruction." Thranduil said, with a distant glance. Bard crossed his arms and glanced towards the Lonely Mountain. He sighed.
"We have to attend to our basic needs, and the challenges that lie before us now." Bard said. "Before we speak of battles and wars, I would like to try diplomacy." Thranduil looked back at Bard. A pragmatic man; another good quality.
"I see. And you would try to forge a treaty with a king who is mad with gold?"
"The 'request for help' would be better received were it delivered by someone Thorin trusts implicitly, I would think." Bard said in a low voice, leaning forward. "One who may be convinced of our position?"
"I believe we may have that very person in our midst." Thranduil returned, looking towards the far end of the camp.
It was evening when Kili protested enough for his elf guards to take him to relive himself in the woods. He was growing weary of staying in the little tent they had set up and ushered him into many hours ago. They had thrown in with him his pack, searched and now fully disheveled, as well as a sleeping mat. Kili had made himself comfortable, but was restless, being so unused to staying still.
On his way back through the woods from his mini-expedition, he gazed out over the multiple white tents that had suddenly appeared from the elf contingent, and in the center was a grander, larger tent, a fair distance from where he was, which was an even further distance from the more makeshift and dilapidated shelters of the survivors of Laketown. And beyond that was the lake, and the darkened shadows of an incinerated town that made him gulp every time he saw it. Kili pursed his lips and shook his head, crossing his arms. He was so far out of his own zone of comfort that for one of the first times in his life, he really felt alone.
Every time Kili closed his eyes he saw the looks the people from Laketown gave him as he was marched with the elf procession through the survivors once they first entered camp. Most were of disbelief. Some were of a deep despair and sadness that made his chest ache.
A friendly face, Bard's daughter, Sigrid, came to him at that time and told him of his brother's disposition and that of the other dwarves; that they were alive and well, and were probably in Erabor by now. Kili sighed with deep relief, and his eyes met another pair of caring eyes at that moment. Tauriel was standing next to the white horse, her hands busy stroking its mane, but her gaze was intent upon him. A sadness had flitted over him just then; he realized at that moment that surely, he would have to leave her. He kept looking at her long after he should have, as the elves continued through the survivor's camp.
Soon after, he felt the anger of a people whose home had been stolen from them. Many harsh glares were sent his way. Many were of hate. A pure hate, as if it was he who lit and fanned the flames of the dragon's breath upon their town with his own hands. When someone rushed at him, screaming curses about his kin, his elf captors turned to protectors, and surrounded him tightly. Kili felt it in his chest: remorse; even though he knew he had little to do with it the particulars of this tragedy. This is why he was taken to the far side of the elf encampment. Which was close to Erebor, as luck would have it. The Lonely Mountain rose up behind the rocky landscape, looming in the distance. It lured him, like a quiet whisper, and captured his gaze and halted his breath each time it came into view. Knowing Fili was there made the pull stronger.
Kili did admit it to himself; he would have followed his uncle to Erebor were he well, to see with his own eyes the halls of his ancestors, to bask in the glow of the riches of his people much like all the other dwarves who had awoken the dragon and his fiery ire. But life and fate had taken a turn; and now he saw the world from different eyes, and the whole situation from so many different perspectives it made his head spin. Never mind that his heart was breaking with this newfound ache in his chest, an ache, a need for something with someone he could never have.
"Can I stay here, outside?" He asked, looking up at one of the elves near him. This was a sturdy elf, with darker hair and brown eyes. He shook his head. "What are you worried about? I will not run away." Kili growled. "I simply would like to sit by the fire, and warm my bones a bit." He said, rubbing his arms. The elf before him glanced at him with that uncaring stony grimace and turned to one of the other elves. The one obviously in command nodded.
Kili plunked down unceremoniously close to the fire, so close that the heat nearly singed his eyebrows. He stared into the dancing flames and looked through the heated air above the fire, and the tendrils of smoke above that. The slowness of the rising heat made him feel even more melancholy. What a mess he had gotten himself into. He picked up a twig nearby and started to pick it apart, throwing bits into the fire. He started humming a slow solemn tune about the misty mountain.
Then the elves all around him, who were in various states of standing or sitting or leaning against rocks rapidly stood at attention. Kili looked around at them, puzzled, then through the undulating waves in the heated air above the fire. An indistinct figure walked into view.
"Captain." They said.
"At ease." The darkened figure stated in Sindarian. Kili would know that voice anywhere. His heart stood still and he sucked in a breath.
Tauriel rounded the fire, her face that stern, stony appearance, her porcelain skin shining in the firelight, her hair in a braid that hung behind her shoulders. The unfamiliar Sindarian words they exchanged lingered in his ears, yet Kili's eyes were captivated by the appearance of his elf. Kili wondered if there would ever be a time he would not gasp or want to smile like a fool in her presence; even though he instantly felt giddy, he steeled his jaw and tried to keep his eyes from flowing down her form, lingering on her curves. That would be rude, in present company…She did not even look his way yet.
"Have any of you eaten yet?" She said, as the soldiers relaxed.
"Not as yet captain." The commander said, approaching her slowly
"Then please go, all of you." She said, commandingly. "The King's tent has more than enough left for all." The elves murmured with each other.
"Who will stand watch?" The commander asked.
"I will stay with him." Tauriel said, so sternly, there was no question. The soldiers all nodded and left the campsite, heading towards the center of camp.
Tauriel then turned to Kili, whose eyes had never left her since she came into view. Her face softened immediately and she smiled at him. He could not help but return the shy smile.
Just moments before, Tauriel had been in the Kings tent for dinner, acting as host, busy talking and supping with the Lakemen. She nodded pleasantly, but was not interested in the conversations. She ate the food, yet was not very hungry; every bite she took reminded her of the succulent meals she had with Kili, the tastes still lingering in her mind. She grew quiet and withdrew into the shadows when their guests became more comfortable, and the wine eased the tension. She wanted to see Kili. She had to see him again, if just for a moment…The urge became an ache. Eventually, she gathered up some food and placed it in her satchel. There…that was excuse enough for her.
"I must be quite a threat, to be guarded by four armed soldiers." Kili said, as he looked back at her with a playfully serious expression, one that harkened back to their first encounter in the dungeons.
"No…" She said, her voice changing to a more warning tone as well. "It is partially for your own protection." She walked slowly around the fire. Kili swallowed as he let his eyes wander over her. How his body ached with her so near…
"Aren't you afraid I'll run away?" He said, looking away, towards the lonely mountain, then back at her, his face set in as serious an expression he could manage at the moment. Tauriel stopped and looked at him, warmly, yet with some sadness.
"Yes." She whispered. His chest tightened and twisted, and his mouth fell open. She had rendered him speechless and paralyzed once again. He knew he would not leave her presence with any ease.
"I wont." He said, having no control over his mouth. Tauriel looked at him with that small smile that had taken his heart from minute one.
"We do not want you to become a target for the ire of the people of Laketown, after the disaster they have endured. And King Thranduil thinks you an important…"
"Pawn?" He filled in quickly. She pursed her lips.
"Messenger." She said. Kili harrumphed. They both knew it; Kili was seen both as a pawn and messenger at this point.
Tauriel came to sit down beside Kili, rather close, her eyes still on him. They stared at each other silently for a while. In just several hours, circumstances had distanced them from each other; yet in these few moments, the way they regarded each other warmed them both, reminding them of their special bond, and very special history with each other. Tauriel instantly felt comfort again, in his presence.
"Are you alright?" Kili asked, his low voice quiet. She tilted her head, puzzled, her lips tilting up in a beguiling smile.
"It is I who should be asking that of you." she said. "Have they been treating you well?" she asked.
"Well enough." He said, tilting his head. "But they have hardly said a word to me." Tauriel pursed her lips. Silence was torture to Kili, that she knew. He looked back into the flame.
"Most elves are not very talkative." She said.
"I do feel like a bit of a pariah." He admitted, looking back up at her. She looked away, and took out a wrapped package from the satchel around her waist. She opened it to reveal the food she had collected from the Kings table. Some braised rabbit, bread and a few potatoes. Kili's eyes opened wide and his stomach growled audibly. Funny, he had not been feeling hungry at all until she arrived.
"I figured you would need to eat." She said, a smile on her face. Kili took a bite of the meat, nodding. She handed him a skin with wine. He drank it down in almost one gulp, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, a big smile on his face. Tauriel smiled widely. He always made her smile, without even trying…
"Now, this…is good," he said, holding up the skin. "And this is…fine." he added, looking down at his meal in his lap.
"Not as good as the dishes you made me." She admitted, then smiled shyly. Kili shook his head slowly, with a small laugh.
Maybe one day he would be able to cook for her again, he hoped. He looked up at her, her sparkling eyes calling to him, her smile tempting him. He was resisting the urge to grab her and kiss those luscious lips. It was difficult…
"Thank you." he said, shyly. He ate a few more bites in relative quiet, just happy to have her again by his side. "So… What is to happen to me?" he asked, and then took another bite of the meal she brought. Tauriel sighed.
"I don't know." She said. "It is up to Thranduil, although Bard is insisting you be released to join the other dwarves." She said. Kili noted a bit of sadness in her voice, a sadness mirrored within him. Kili nodded slowly, put down the meal and clasped his hands.
Kili looked to his side, and his eyes met with the most beautiful olive green eyes of the most gorgeous creature he ever had seen.
Never before had his heart been so divided. How he wanted to see Erebor, and hold his brother's arms once again, and laugh and sing with his fellow dwarves. Yet, the elf next to him he felt he needed to be with, to touch, to hold, to love…his elf, almost more than he needed to breathe.
But that…that was just a dream.
Yet here she was. Besides him again, of her own choosing. Kili did not know when he would be able to be this close to her, or be able to speak with her again with such privacy. There was something he had to find out.
"The prince...he has great regard for you." He said, his low voice rumbling, looking at her eyes. She knit her brows slightly, her lips pursing, her eyes wondering . "He cares for you …as more than a sister." Kili continued, his eyes locked on hers. It was not a question. Tauriel's eyes showed understanding, and she sighed, but did not avert her glance from his gaze.
"Yes." She said, almost apologetically. Kili was very observant, that she knew.
Kili closed his eyes and shook his head, lips pursed. A dread set into his chest. It was just as he had felt when he saw them together; just as he had feared. Immediately his heart ached as if raw and he questioned everything that had happened over these last few, wonderful days.
"Why did you not tell me?" He whispered, his mind racing, his pain revealing itself in those few words of unease.
"Kili, look at me." She said.
Kili breathed heavily, opened his eyes and looked back at her. Her eyes were soft, gentle, and worried.
"I did not know." She said, with such sincerity, he could not help but believe her. Yet he shook his head.
"It was immediately obvious to me; how could you not know?"
"His father forbids such involvement." She said. "Therefore, I did not pursue it." Kili stared at her. He would not have let such a thing stop him… But it was time to ask what truly mattered to him.
"How do you feel… about him?" He asked, nearly wincing. Why did he ask questions he truly did not want to know the answers to? Because he had to know…
Tauriel looked away, into the fire, breathing slowly. The seconds to her answer were long, and stretched Kili's nerves like nothing else he had ever encountered.
Kili's mind raced. Tauriel should be with this prince because he was an elf. One of high standing, one who obviously cared for her. Kili thought he should be able to accept it, it was what was best for her…yet all he felt was a void; empty.
"I do care for him," She said finally. "And it may have grown into more, despite his father's wishes."
Kili's heart seized and lodged in his throat and he felt physically ill. She turned to him.
"But now… I have these…stronger feelings for someone else. Feelings that I must…try to understand." She continued, thankfully. "Feelings for you…"
Her soft gaze his way was thrilling to him, as his heart began to beat again, thumping hard within his chest. She cared for him…she admitted it. Every muscle in his body wanted to jump out and grab hold of her. It took every ounce of control for him not to. But the elation was brief, because reality set in.
What was there to understand? This was an impossible situation.
"But with this someone else…there is no tomorrow." Kili sighed painfully. "You said so yourself." He looked away, into the fire, despair taking hold.
Kili nearly gasped when soft, slender fingers entwined with his. He gripped them tightly, barely breathing. He closed his eyes and wished silently that she would never move. Just her touch made him whole…
"That did not stop us, did it?" She whispered in his ear. Kili laughed softly.
She relinquished her hold on him and stood up swiftly, her hand reaching for her knives, staring into the relative dark beyond the light cast by the fire as she looked steely eyed towards the center of the camp. A dark shadow advanced.
"It is just I, Tauriel." He said. It was Oreyon. Tauriel pursed her lips in annoyance and relief.
"I am glad I held on to my weapon." She said, with some warning. Oreyon smirked and nodded his head. If there was anyone else other than Legolas who could have anticipated her moves and maybe avoided injury, that would have been Oreyon. "You needed me for something?" she asked, putting away her knives.
"Actually, no. I came for the dwarf." He said, crossing his arms before him, regarding the young dwarf with mild curiosity. "The King requests an audience." Oreyon had seen them sitting close together, that she knew. Tauriel wondered what more he saw…she looked down at Kili.
Kili looked between them as they conversed in Sindarian. When they both looked at him, his brow lifted.
"What?" he asked her, in his low voice. Tauriel pursed her lips.
"The king would like to speak with you." She said, her face painted with a bit of surprise. Kili looked into the fire for several slow seconds. He dusted his hands off and stood up. His eyes rose to Oreyon.
"Well…lead the way." He said. Kili felt that he might as well get this over with. It was time to learn what the great elf king had planned for him.
Tauriel, on the other hand, was mortified...