Author's Notes: Fucking Elves are fucking killing me. This chapter ended up being all Elves so hopefully it'll be good practice and maybe I won't have as much trouble later on. This chapter ended up really short and it still took me FOREVER to write. Also Tauriel and Legolas kind of took over the first part. I felt like they had unfinished business that needed to be worked out before we could go forward. I considered making this chapter longer but you guys are already waiting for an update and I felt bad. But remember how I kept saying that updates were going to slow down? And they never did? Well they finally are. I can't keep up the manic pace I've had all summer and I don't want to get burned out.

When I posted the last chapter, I forgot to congratulate my reader LovingBOBThePacific, who gets 10 nerd points for finding the Game of Thrones quote that was hidden in Chapter 27. The quote was "Only death pays for life."

I also want to give a special shout-out to RogueoftheNorth, who reviewed almost every chapter as she read along the first 13, and I love when people do that! She's also writing her own Fili/OC (GiME) fic, and it's pretty damn good I think, so go check her out!

Also, ff .net won't let me post links, so this part is hard, but I'm going to try to sneak them in anyway. I made a background/banner/cover page for Fili/Moira (or Filra as I'm calling them now). imgur dot com / a / qfbD6

Even better, one of my readers on A03, QueenoftheQuill, made one, and hers is WAAYY better than mine. My computer editing skills aren't so great, but hers is BEAUTIFUL. So, take a look. imgur dot com / a / Rc01k

Sindarian Words:

mellonin = my friend

Chapter 29:

Recklessness or Necessity

Tauriel wandered the gardens of Imladis, lost in troubled thoughts. Fili reported that Moira's condition continued to worsen, and there seemed to be little they could do about it. Worse, Tauriel could not even visit her and appraise her well-being herself. Fili she still half-remembered, which was only natural. Some days Moira would tolerate Bilbo or Kili's presence, but she seemed to react badly to Elves in particular. Which hinted at some unknown conflict with her kind in one of the many worlds which Moira had resided in. Not that there were likely to be any answers forthcoming, for the time being at least. Moira herself did not seem to know why she felt the way she did.

Tauriel could not help but feel a deep sense of protectiveness towards the human woman. The Elf knew that some of her feelings came from guilt. Despite Moira's assurances that she did not blame her in the least for her former King's vile actions, Tauriel knew that she bore at least some of the blame. The sickness that lay on the Greenwood had been affecting Thranduil's mind for some time. Tauriel had noticed it in earnest just over a century before the Company of Dwarves and one human had stumbled into her forest, but it was likely that the sickness had been festering for much longer. Still, Tauriel was only a lowly Sylvan Elf, and although she had shared her concerns with Legolas, it had not been her place to do more.

Or so Tauriel had felt at the time. She no longer held that belief. All that it took for the triumph of evil, after all, was for good people to do nothing. And Tauriel had never been an advocate of doing nothing, of hiding away in safety and blindly hoping that evil would just conveniently disappear from the world. Tauriel was not an elfling hiding under the blankets and pretending that the monsters in the dark would disappear if she closed her eyes. No, Tauriel faced those monsters and let them know in no uncertain terms that they were not welcome. Which made her ignoring Thranduil's sickness all the more unforgivable.

But Tauriel thought that something more than guilt motivated her desire to connect with Moira. Despite outward appearances, she believed they had much in common. They were both exiles, in a way, unlikely to see their homes again. They both loved a Dwarf Prince, despite knowing that their feelings were ill-advised at best, or outright forbidden at worst. If Moira returned to the Mountain, she was likely to still feel alienated there, as Tauriel herself sometimes did. She hoped that she could help Moira with the transition. Tauriel had lived beneath the stone for near two years now. It had not been easy at first, and sometimes it still was not. But perhaps together, they could forge a new life in Erebor, a way to happy with their entire lives, not merely with the men that they loved.

Now that Tauriel was aware of the truth of Moira's strange existence, she had another reason to feel both sympathy and kinship with the wayward Ranger. 150 years was a mere blink in the life of an Elf, but it was likely that Moira felt herself immeasurably old. It was not for her kind to bear the burden of such long life, and even worse, she could not reside in the same world for it's duration, but was constantly forced to reinvent herself. And there was still the matter of this fell sorcerer … Tauriel held back an involuntary shudder that threatened to overtake her. It was no wonder that Moira had such a tentative purchase on reality.

And of course the weapon that Moira had sworn her to secrecy about. Tauriel still felt it's weight, heavier than it should be, hidden at the bottom of the small bag she carried with her. Even in Imladis she kept it with her for safe-keeping. Moira had promised to reevaluate when they got to Rivendell, and Tauriel hoped that she would tell the others. But now she was in no condition to be making decisions of any kind, if she even remembered sending Tauriel to dig it up from its hiding spot at Weathertop. The very place that Moira had first awakened in Middle-Earth, although she hadn't told the others that detail. Perhaps, in light of Moira's current condition, she should take matters into her own hands. Perhaps it was time to come clean.

"Tauriel." a familiar voice pulled her from her musings.

The words 'my prince' were on the tip of Tauriel's tongue, but she held the title back. Legolas was not her prince anymore. She was exiled from the Woodland Realm forever. Erebor was her home now. She turned, acknowledging him with his name instead.

"Legolas."

The Prince of the Greenwood looked uncertain, but came closer anyway. "I have been trying to speak with you for days."

Tauriel arched an auburn eyebrow at that. "Have you?"

"You were always with … him." He couldn't seem to bring himself to say her betrothed's name.

"His name is Kili."

"Yes. Kili." He looked hesitant, indecisive. Tauriel had rarely seen him look so unsure of himself, even when he was pining for a love she could not give him. An awkward silence settled over them. Tauriel was not quite sure what Legolas was expecting of her, so she kept silent, waiting. His blue eyes lingered over the thick braids framing her face, the evidence of both Kili's love and of her own people's rejection. Finally he spoke. "Are you happy? With him? With Kili?"

"Yes." Her lips unconsciously twisted into a fond smile. "Kili makes my heart sing as it never has before."

It was true. Kili, and indeed most of his kin, was full of life in a way that most of her kind was not. Perhaps it was the gift of mortality itself that made it so. Knowing that life was short and precious made them determined to wring every possible moment of joy and pleasure and warmth from an unforgiving world, until they fairly overflowed with delight and laughter. They were full of vim and verve and vigor, and truly lived every moment. Dwarves fought with a fury and fierceness that could not be matched, drank oceans-worth of ale and mead, ate wagons-full of meat in a joyous (if not well-mannered) orgy of flavor, laughed often and loudly from deep in their bellies, and made love like it was their last night alive. And her Kili was the brashest, most reckless of them all, laughing in the face of death and defeat and forcing life to submit to him. While her own people hid away from the world, growing ever sadder and more frigid with each passing year. Elf she may be, but perhaps Tauriel was never meant to live forever. She could never be as cold as Thranduil was. The light inside of her still burned hot, and it had responded to Kili's natural joviality almost instantly. Even as she had insulted him and refused his request for a dagger against the spiders in Mirkwood's darkened paths, something had drawn her to him and stolen her breath away. Perhaps this was always meant to be.

Legolas nodded. "I am glad. That is all I wish for you, mellonin." Tauriel's heart felt suddenly lighter. But still, she felt the need to test him. They had not parted on good terms after the battle.

"Are you truly?"

"Yes." Legolas turned away from her inquiring gaze then, looking out over a small pond nearby. "It is true, there was a time that I had hoped for more between us. But you have made your wishes clear, and if your heart truly lies with the Dwarf, then I would not wish to lose our friendship over it." A note of pain enters his voice. "Especially as your time in Arda will be shortened by your love for him. I will not have centuries to make amends."

Ah. He still mourned her choice of a mortal, moreso than her refusal of him. That had been the crux of their argument after the battle. To love a mortal was considered a reckless waste of life among their kind, and both of their emotions had been raw then. There had been much Elvish blood split, many immortal lives cut cruelly short. The pain had made them both cruel, spitting insults and hurtful words back at the other until he had left in a huff. Tauriel was glad that would not be the last time she spoke with him. She came to stand beside him.

"The consequences are great, I will admit. But so are the rewards. They live as we do not, with a passion that our race rarely exhibits. And they love just as intensely. It is … exhilarating."

There was silence before Tauriel thought of another tactic to explain her feelings to her friend."How do you know Strider?"

"He is my friend."

"So you no longer shun mortals then."

"I am not my father, Tauriel. I left the Greenwood for a reason."

"No, you are not. I did not mean to imply so."

She waited for Legolas to acknowledge her before she continued. When he gave her the barest hint of nod, she did so. "You will lose him one day. You will have to bury him. You may even be there when he passes from this world."

Legolas's voice was soft when he answered. "Yes."

"And yet, you still call him friend. You still cultivate that connection, even knowing it will one day bring you pain?"

"Yes." There is a glimmer in Legolas's blue eyes as he met her hazel ones, as if he knew what she was going to say.

"Because knowing him in the meantime is worth it?"

He didn't answer right away. He tilted his head away from her and out looked over the calm water of the pond. The sunlight glinted across it and made it glow. The silence stretched for long moments. "I understand." he finally said.

Tauriel smiled. She decided to change to a happier topic than the inevitable demise of his friend. "Kili and I are to be wed, this coming Durin's Day." She told him.

He looked surprised. "So soon?"

Tauriel laughed. "He is mortal, remember? We have little time, by Elven reckoning at least. I would not waste a moment of it."

Legolas smiled then, and she was surprised to see that it was not a sad smile. "I suppose a two-decade long courtship would not apply. Not if you do not wish to be marrying an gray-bearded old man." He teased. It had been years since he had teased her in that brotherly fashion, not since his feelings toward her had changed.

Tauriel smiled broadly. "Kili is still quite young for a Dwarf. 20 years would not make him old." After a heartbeat, she decided to tell him the true reason for the rushed marriage. Or rushed by Elven standards, in any case. She wanted to see his reaction. If Legolas truly wanted a renewal of their friendship, he would be happy for her. "But if we want children, while he is still in his prime ….." She let the sentence hang.

He nodded. "I suppose that makes sense." After a pause he said something that Tauriel did not expect. "That would make the blonde one your brother."

Tauriel gave Legolas a quizzical look. "Yes. We get along quite well, if that was your concern."

"What of Thorin?"

Tauriel laughed again. "He had … his reservations, although he was quite overruled by his sister."

"Oh?" Legolas sounded intrigued.

"Did you think the sister of Thorin Oakensheild and the mother of Kili and Fili would be anything but formidable?" The red-head challenged the prince. "I quite enjoy Dis, actually."

"I am happy that you are building a family for yourself again, even if it is a strange one. After we lost your parents, I feared you would never open your heart to anyone."

"So did I, for a time."

"But I worry."

"You would not be yourself if you did not."

"Especially this matter of Fili's Ranger. Some of the servants here in Rivendell are whispering, Tauriel. They say she is cursed."

"Perhaps she is." Tauriel did not see reason in denying the obvious."But she is Fili's beloved, which makes her my sister in this 'strange family', as you call it. I owe her my life, if you'll recall. And both of us owe her recompense, on another matter." Legolas winced as he was reminded of his father's crime, but Tauriel continued. "I will do whatever I must to defend her, as she defended me on Ravenhill."

Legolas looked troubled. "There is evil growing in the world Tauriel. Fell creatures are creeping forth with more brazenness than they have had in an age. There are whispers …. I fear your friend has been touched by this darkness."

Tauriel said nothing. She would not betray Moira's trust, not even to Legolas. Not yet. Not until she was convinced that it was an absolute necessity. For a time they just watched the sunlight reflect across the still water, dragonflies flitting about in the lazy afternoon breeze, until Tauriel said goodbye to her old friend. She wished to find her lover and tell Kili again just how much he meant to her.

~0~0~0~

"It is good to see you, mellonin." The Lord of Rivendell ushered the gray wizard into his study. The elegantly-carved desk was covered in scrolls and ancient parchments in various languages, the evidence of his efforts these past days on Moira's behalf. Elrond now carefully gathered the ancient papers up and set them safely to the side. He went to a nearby table and poured a drought of red Elvish wine into two glasses.

Gandalf folded his tall frame into one of the open-backed chairs and took the offered glass. "And you, old friend, although I do wish it were under happier circumstances."

Elrond circled to the other side of the desk and sat before he answered. "Then you are already aware of the poor girl's condition?"

"Yes." Gandalf's voice was solemn. "It was the Lady Galadriel who sent me here, and she believes that there is more than Moira's fate in the balance. She believes that whatever is hunting her may change the face of Middle-Earth itself."

Elrond arched an eyebrow at the wizard. "That is sobering news indeed, old friend." The Elf took a sip of his wine, as if waiting to see if the old wizard would have more information to disclose. When he did not, Elrond spoke.

"There is more than one magic affecting her, Mithrandir. I believe that these powers warring within her may be the cause for the flight of her senses. It is too much for her mortal mind to bear. That, combined with many lifetimes of memories that she was not meant to have ..." The Elf-Lord hesitated for just a moment, before continuing. "You are aware that she hails from outside of Arda?"

The wizard nodded. "I have always known that she came from another world. However, I did not realize her origin was quite so … spectacular."

"Indeed." Elrond looked grim. "This entire situation is … truly unique." The Elf-Lord sighed and pinned Gandalf with his piercing gaze. "But I believe I may have a solution to her current memory problem, if not her overall predicament."

"Oh?" Gandalf set down the now-empty wine glass. "Well don't keep it to yourself!"

"An ancient spell to piece the fragments of her mind back together. But it is not without danger."

The vagueness of his answer was making Gandalf feel annoyed, but such was the way of Elves. "And what is the origin of this spell?"

"To my knowledge, it has only been attempted once before. By Finwë."

A chill ran through Gandalf. "You don't mean...?"

"Yes." Elrond's voice was solemn and his lips set into a hard line. "When he attempted to bring Míriel back to him after the birth of Fëanor."

"Finwë's attempt failed, I'm sure you're aware."

"Of course. But I don't see what other course we could take. Moira will continue to deteriorate, and if the increase of Orcs near our borders are any indication, that is not the only danger she will be facing in the coming days. And now, you tell me this is about something beyond her, that Middle-Earth itself may be in danger. Our list of options grows thin."

Gandalf sat back further into the chair, feeling the weight of his many centuries in Arda at this point. "Who will do it then?"

Elrond arched an eyebrow at him, and a note of amusement and affection entered his tone as he spoke to the wizard he had known for a millenia. "I would think that would be obvious, old friend. This spell was created by a husband desperate to repair the damaged mind of his beloved wife, after all. More than that, it must be someone who Moira trusts implicitly, even in her current state."

Gandalf harrumphed. "There's a flaw in your plan. Fili has no magic."

"I'm quite aware of that. Between the two of us we should be able to re-work the parameters of the spell. But it must be Fili who enters her mind."

"Considering the danger of this endeavor, I think it best that I examine her myself before we make any hasty decisions." Gandalf stood.

Elrond rose as well, more smoothly than old wizard. "Whatever you think is best, Mithrandir."

Gandalf continued to talk as he moved towards the door. "I have sent Fili to gather his brother and Tauriel. I must speak with Bilbo as well. Fili has informed me that Moira has been wintering in the Shire, so our Hobbit has seen more of her than any of her other friends these past years. We must all share what we know before we reach any definitive conclusions."

If one wasn't aware of the muted reactions of Elves, they might have missed the note of surprise that entered the Elf-Lord's voice. "What do you hope to gain by speaking with her companions?"

"I do not know yet." Gandalf was dismissive of Elrond's surprise. "Considering the strangeness of her circumstances, I think it wise to attempt to gather whatever scraps of intel we can before making such a perilous attempt. Honestly, mellonin, I did not expect such haste from you. And Saruman believes I am the reckless one!" Gandalf attempted to lighten the mood with a joke. Which might have worked with Dwarves, but Elrond would not be distracted. He did not even crack a smile as he placed the long, thin fingers of his pale hand on the door in front of Gandalf, stopping him from leaving.

"Mithrandir, a moment." His fair face was serious, and the flashing expression in his starlight eyes betrayed his age at that moment. "What you call reckless haste, I call necessity. More Orcs are gathering on our borders, and there is a bounty on her head, one which specifies she be taken alive. Rivendell has already lived through two sieges. I will not send her out into the world with her mind so addled. That would be a death sentence, and I am not cruel. But neither can I risk the lives of those in Imladis that I have vowed to safeguard. She cannot stay in Rivendell forever."

Gandalf closed his eyes in worry and took a deep breath before he opened them again. "Understood."

~0~0~0~

Author's Notes: Okay, so the history of Finwë and Míriel that I referenced. They were the parents of Fëanor, the Elf that created the Silmarils that everybody was crazy about back in the First Age. When he was born, his mother Míriel gave all of her life-force and essence to him, leaving her essentially hollow. It's phrased that "her body and her spirit were consumed", and she wanted to die. She went to Lorien to rest (NOT Galadriel's Lothlorien, but a beautiful wood of the same name in Valinor), but instead of regaining her strength, her fëa left her body and went to the Halls of Mandos. But her body did not wither, remaining essentially comatose but spiritless. For a long time Finwë mourned for her and visited her comatose body, and until he could bear it no longer and stopped.

Míriel was the first Elf to choose to die, which was shocking at the time. This all took place in the blessed land of Aman.

That's the cannon. For my purposes, Finwë created a spell to try to retrieve her while she was laying unconscious in the wood. Of course, it didn't work, and her fëa fled anyway. Yes, I'm sending Fili inside Moira's broken head to piece her back together. You thought the Mirkwood chapter was trippy? That has nothing on what's coming. And yes it's partially an excuse to explore her past some more, but also because I really really wanted Fili to see it! And yes, it's going to take me a LONG TIME to write. Sorry.

Also, I did not invent the sieges that Elrond was referring to. The first happened during the War of Elves and Sauron, and the second one by Angmar sometime between the years 1356 and 1409 of the Third Age, and was during a war between Arnor and Angmar. You can find out more on tolkiengateway dot net if you are interested. I do a lot of research there.