Lothlórien, the Golden Wood, loomed before them.
Spirits once again dampened from being soaked through by another rain that continued to fall nevertheless brightened. The company began to whisper among themselves, wondering how they would be received as they marched closer to trees that looked like none they had ever seen before.
"There will be scouts, no doubt," Bard remarked as they approached the northeast border.
"Naturally," Tauriel replied. "Any kingdom with wise rulers would have guardians at their borders. When we will meet with them, however, I cannot say."
"Everyone, stay close," Bard then called over his shoulder, then to Tauriel, Peri, and Gudmund, the latter two standing to his right, he asked, "Press on then? Or do we camp here—as the light has already begun to wane—so that we do not get lost in the dark of the forest?"
"My suggestion would be to camp here for the night," Peri said. "We are come to this land unannounced, and as none of our company has been here before, there is no one who could guide us in the dark."
"I must agree with Peri, my Lord," Gudmund chimed in. "As you and the captain have said, there are like to be scouts—and we don't want to be perceived as a threat, charging in all at once or anything."
Bard nodded. "It is best to approach the unknown in the light of day, when all paths are clear. So it's settled then."
He turned then and announced to the company that they were going to set up camp where they were, and present themselves to the elves in Lothlórien on the morrow. Some minutes later, as Bain was helping him set up the tent they shared, Bard was approached by Balin, Ori, and Bofur.
Noting they carried their traveling packs, he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Something I can do for you gentlemen?" he asked.
Balin glanced at the other two, then back to Bard as he said, "We'll not be going into Lothlórien with you, I'm afraid."
"Whyever not? You've known since you joined us in the valley that we meant to stop here. Why now have you changed your minds about staying with us?"
"Oh, we will return in due time," Balin said. "But the truth is, Lord Bard, that no dwarf has set foot in the Golden Wood since the time of Durin. I'm not entirely sure we would be as well received by Tauriel's kin here as we were in Mirkwood."
"But where will you go?" asked Bain.
"Moria," said Bofur.
Tauriel had come up to Bard's side as they spoke. "I thought Moria was abandoned, and now claimed by orcs and goblins and other creatures of the dark?"
Balin nodded. "So it is said, my Lady. But it won't hurt the three of us to go and have a look, see what we're up against. Who knows—maybe someday we shall reclaim those fine halls as we did the Lonely Mountain."
"Are you certain this is the path you wish to take? The company cannot wait for you, Master Balin," Bard said.
"We need only a few days, Bard. Take your time here in Lothlórien—make connections, form bonds of friendship and trade. We shall rejoin you before the company continues south," the old dwarf assured him.
Bard regarded their solemn faces. "Four days is all that I can give you," he told them at last. "By then we will have been away from Dale and Esgaroth a fortnight, and we've still a great many leagues to travel before we return home. If you do not return to this place by the light of dawn on the fifth day, I will have to move the company on without you."
The three dwarves looked at one another, then turned to Bard and nodded in unison. "Agreed. As much as I would like to look upon the golden trees… I simply think that parting for a time is what's best for all concerned," Balin said.
"What if you meet a foul end in Moria?" asked Tauriel. "What will we tell your kin in Erebor?"
"Tell them the truth," spoke up Ori. "We went to have a look and didn't come back. But you won't need to worry on that, my Lady. We'll be back."
"If you are absolutely certain, then I bid you Good Journey," the elf replied.
"Why leave now?" Bain asked. "It'll be dark in just an hour or so. Why not remain here through the night and begin your trek at dawn?"
The three dwarves chuckled. "Son, you'd be surprised how far a dwarf can walk in just an hour," Bofur said.
"If you are determined to go, I cannot stop you," Bard said. "Fare thee well, my friends, and I pray you return safely to our company."
The three dwarves bowed, then silently made their way out of the camp, heading toward the mountains not too far in the distance. Bard watched them go, then went back to setting up his tent. As he and Bain worked, several people came to ask why the dwarves had gone and where, and he was forced to stop once more and make an announcement to the company as a whole, so that the questions would stop.
"It was their decision to go," he said at the end. "Therefore we must wish them well and keep hope that we shall see them again in a few days."
Bard then explained that, should the initial meeting with the elves in Lothlórien go well, they would stay four days rather than just one, in part to cement friendship and trade but also to give their companions time to return before they moved on. If, by chance, the elves here were less receptive than in Mirkwood, they would simply move south and set up camp on the other side of Lothlórien to wait the four days out.
"I shouldn't think you have anything to worry about," Tauriel said to Bard as everyone returned to their tents. "Though my knowledge of them is secondhand, everything I have been told about my kin here would seem to indicate we shall be well received."
"We shall certainly see the proof or not in the morning," he replied.
She slipped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. Bard wrapped his arms around her shoulders, once more feeling peace return to his troubled thoughts simply by holding her.
"Do not worry so, Bard. You are going to make a wonderful impression."
Bard smiled against her hair. "Your confidence in my character flatters me, my darling," he told her.
Tauriel looked up at him. "Just telling it like I see it, meleth nín," she replied with a smile.
About an hour past midnight, Tauriel awoke and, changing quickly into a clean outfit she had purchased in Halken, slipped out of the tent she shared with Sigrid and Tilda. Upon seeing her, the man and woman who'd been assigned the night watch smiled. They gave a brief report before she sent them off to their tents to sleep. Since Elves required much less sleep than Edain (if they slept at all, as they were capable of entering a waking meditative state to regain their strength), this had become her routine, to relieve those on the night watch that they could get some rest before it was time to get up and march again.
For the first few months after the battle, she had found herself sleeping inordinately long hours—when she could sleep at all. If she wasn't so aggrieved she didn't want to get out of bed, she was plagued with insomnia. It wasn't long before Tauriel realized that her depression was at fault for the former and fear of having to watch Kíli die over and over again in her dreams was the reason for the latter. It was but one more struggle she faced throughout the winter months to regain some semblance of normalcy.
That day in the training yard, when she'd come to the startling realization that she was attracted to Bard, had been a turning point. She found herself sleeping less at night, at which she was relieved, though there was still the intermittent bout of insomnia. This she soon attributed to not wanting to be reminded of how it had felt to stand so close to him, feeling the warmth of his body so near her own. She'd believed so strongly that she needed to keep him at arms length in order to spare him the pain of rejection.
Now she knew different. Now she was nearly at her normal sleep cycle of just four hours, and the elleth knew it was Bard she had to thank for it. It was him, and his children, who had helped her begin to heal, for no longer was her heart—or her soul—weighted down in mourning. Kíli would always have a place in her heart and her memory, for he was the first man she had ever loved… but being freed from the burden of her grief for him had been a blessing from the Valar.
And so, since the journey had been undertaken—save for their stay in Mirkwood—Tauriel had taken to relieving the guards as soon as she woke. She would see to the horses first, making sure they were well, and then often did calisthenics for an hour or so. Every few days she would take a quick bath in the river, though always remaining ever watchful of the camp's surroundings, her ears always attuned to the sound of nature, listening for anything out of the ordinary.
Although the days were getting warmer as spring began to yield to the coming summer, the nights were still often chilly. Tauriel was tending to another of her nightly chores—stoking the fires in front of each tent—when the sensation of being watched overcame her. She straightened from the fire before Halia's tent and casually glanced around. As her eyes slipped past the trees at Lothlórien's northern border, she immediately knew the source of the feeling was hidden there.
Returning to the fire before Bard's tent, she set up the pot they used for boiling water, added some from the canteen she had filled upon waking, then went to the wagon with their supplies and took from the box of food some spearmint leaves, and also four cups and a ladle.
As she returned to the fire with her selections, she spoke in a voice not loud enough to wake any of the company but which she knew would carry on the wind to the ears of her observers. "You might as well show yourselves to me, I already know you are there."
A moment later, three figures draped in gray cloaks appeared from between the trees.