Tauriel pinwheels her arms as her foot nearly slips off the thick branch and she fights for her balance. She lets out a frustrated huff of breath when she is once again steady, continuing along the limb in the practice course as used to be her morning routine before losing her sight. No target shooting for her, of course, but she figures that simply tracing the familiar obstacle course will be an exciting switch-up from aimlessly wandering the halls of the palace.
The training grounds are open-air, surrounded by a large wall that has targets mounted at various heights and locations. The ground is flat and sandy, save for where an enormous, ancient tree grows up from the center. Over the centuries, its branches have been guided as they grew, and the canopy of the training yard is a veritable maze of woven tree limbs. Tauriel is all too happy to leave the ground.
She has nearly fallen more than a dozen times, and has actually fallen four times - the scrapes on her arms and legs proof of her mis-steps - but she'll be damned if she isn't going to finish now. She's been trapped inside for far too long, she needs to stretch her legs and feel the wind in her hair.
Tauriel reaches up until her fingers feel bark and she jumps, grabbing the branch overhead to pull herself up to the next level. She has done this four times already (not counting her first attempt, which wound her up on the ground) and figures that she must be nearing the thick part of the canopy. From there it is another five levels until she is at the top, a good seventy feet in the air. Her stomach twists every time her feet leave the branch, and the terror of falling grips her with each mis-step, but she is determined. And, if she is being honest, she is also just a touch reckless and stubborn. She is going to make it to the top.
There was an easy way to scale the tree, of course. Careful pruning and training had the outlying branches growing in a radial pattern from the center of the tree, forming a natural staircase of sorts around the trunk. If she wanted to she could simply walk to the top, but that would be cheating.
Tauriel reaches and leaps again, her breath catching in her throat as one of her hands slips from the limb, but she is able to grab it again and haul herself up. Standing slowly, she paces the length of the branch. In some ways it is almost easier to ignore the height when she cannot see how far below her the ground truly is. In other ways, being sightless-
"Tauriel!"
She yelps as she stumbles, caught unaware by the sudden angry shout. She hears a sharp intake of breath from somewhere below her as she drops into a crouch, grabbing onto the branch to steady herself. She lets out a soft breath once she is no longer swaying.
"Come down here at once!"
Icy panic hits her as she recognizes her King's voice, and she quickly re-traces her steps to the trunk of the tree, following the winding branches down like steps.
She can hear the impatient tap of his foot as she steps onto the sandy ground, and she swallows hard before making her way slowly towards the noise.
"My Lord?"
"What exactly do you think you are doing?" he growls.
She doesn't reply for a long second, trying to find a better excuse than "I was bored", but he continues before she gets the chance to reply.
"You are going to break your fool neck! Get back inside at once. You are not to leave the palace unattended, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, My Lord," she whispers, years of practice the only thing keeping her quick strides from turning into a run as she ducks a quick bow and retreats, cheeks flaming. Once she is inside she feels a burning behind her eyes and squeezes them closed, forcing back the tears.
Clearly, she is not trusted enough to wander on her own outside. Or perhaps he merely doesn't want her even considering taking up as a member of the guard again. Either way, she is all too happy to turn the lock to her door and slide to the ground in misery.
So much for freedom.