"Why was Tauriel out on the practice field?"

"She was merely seeking company, My Lord," Meludir answers, fidgeting slightly under his king's icy stare. "None of us intended for her to do more than sit nearby..."

Thranduil huffs a breath, narrowing his eyes at the usually bubbly young elf that he has called before him. He had been one of Tauriel's underlings, part of her normal patrol group. The brunette has his head dipped, a worried crease lining his brow as he picks his next words.

"Should...should we have moved to stop her, My Lord?"

Thranduil pauses for a moment, considering.

"No," he says at length, turning to pace the room. He is well aware of what Tauriel is like. The minute he forbids her something, she will decide that she has to have it - problem child that she is. "It would be less trouble to keep silent on the matter. I merely ask that you and the other guards don't let her do anything too dangerous. Keep her away from the weapons."

The characteristic smile is back in place when he turns to face Meludir, and the soldier bows.

"Of course, My Lord."

"You are dismissed."

He watches as the younger elf leaves, then sinks back into his throne.

He had about flown into a panic earlier when he'd caught wind of a rumor that Tauriel was sparring with the soldiers, and had immediately sent Galion to investigate. He had been relieved to find out that it was nothing more than a little hand-to-hand scuffle for fun - and he would admit that he felt a tiny glow of pride when Galion mentioned that Tauriel won - but he would have to keep a closer eye on her. This was the second time in the space of a week that he'd discovered her doing something dangerous and been sure that she'd get her fool self killed before he could intervene. Seeing her nearly fall from the tree had just about stopped his heart in his chest.

"Always a troublemaker," he murmurs, shaking his head.

He knows that Tauriel is loathe to stay still for too long - has been that way since she was a child - but coupling that with her blindness, he fears, will only lead to trouble. He only hopes that he can come up with a suitable diversion before she gets herself killed.

With a sigh, Thranduil stands and makes his way over to his desk, where the letter from his son rests, awaiting a reply. He has not yet told Legolas of Tauriel's fate, nor has his son asked after her, and he would be lying if he says that he is looking forward to that conversation. Deciding to once again avoid the topic, he drafts up an inane letter about the Greenwood and daily goings-on that Legolas is missing, then folds it and sets it aside to be delivered to Rivendell.

He crosses back to his throne, fully intending to pour himself a goblet of Dorwinion and relax for a while, however he only makes it as far as uncorking the bottle before he is interrupted by a knock on the door of his throne room.

"Visitors, My Lord. From Erebor."

Thranduil grits his teeth, using every last ounce of his willpower to resist letting out a string of curses.

This is JUST what he needed.

In the end, he is on his best behavior. He greets the dwarves pleasantly, invites them in, offers them food and drink which they quickly devour, and then offers to have Feren show them to the guest quarters. It is bad luck, he thinks, that a particular red-head enters the main hall as the dwarves are walking by and one of them recognizes her from across the room.

"Lady Tauriel!"

Thranduil glances over his shoulder as a dwarf with a ridiculous hat runs over to the red-haired maiden and skids to a stop before her, smiling like a fool.

"Do you remember me?"

Tauriel's brows pinch, her head tilting down slightly in confusion as the voice comes from an unfamiliar height.

"I...I am afraid that I cannot place your voice..."

"My voice?" the dwarf tilts his head, narrowing his eyes in confusion, "Is that some kind of elf thing? Surely you remember me, I'm the one who got you the athelas. I would think you'd at least remember the hat."

"Hat?"

The dwarf opens his mouth to reply, but it is at that moment that he notices her eyes.

"Y- you can't see?"

Tauriel bites her bottom lip, shaking her head. The dwarf gawks for a long moment, then leans closer, squinting his eyes as he studies her.

"Your eyes used to be green, didn't they? I remember Kili going on about it."

Thranduil does not miss the way she flinches at the name of her dead dwarf, nor the way her hand skims up to her pocket.

"Are your eyes white cause you can't see? Did something happen after the battle to-"

"Bofur! Quit pestering the poor thing with your endless questions, I need a word with her."

The dwarf with the strange hat backs away, murmuring a quiet apology as an elderly, white-bearded dwarf approaches Tauriel and Thranduil lets out a breath in relief on her behalf.

"You'll have to forgive him, he tends to ramble on when he's excited... I hope he hasn't offended you," the older dwarf says softly, offering a bowed head that she cannot see in greeting.

"It is quite all right. I would be curious as well if I were in his place," Tauriel says with a gentle smile, but she still looks just as confused as she did a second ago.

"I am Balin of Erebor, my companion here is Bofur. If I'm recognizing you correctly, you are Lady Tauriel?" the dwarf asks.

"I am."

"I have gifts for you from the mountain. Some of Kili's share of the treasure, as it were. Now before you start," the dwarf says hurriedly as Tauriel opens her mouth to argue, "there's more than enough treasure in that mountain for all, and we of the company agreed that Kili would have wanted you to have some of his share, especially after all you'd done for him."

The dwarf pauses, his tone becoming gentler as he smiles up at the elf. "He loved you."

"As I love him," she whispers, and the dwarf nods.

"Aye. Now I know elves aren't as fond of gold as we dwarves are, but I found a few pretty things for you in that treasure hoard. Here," he takes her hand gently in his, fishing in the worn bag at his side for a moment before withdrawing an emerald charm. He places it in her palm, cupping her hand around it, and catches her other hand, bringing her fingertips to trace the jewel. "This one's an emerald, oval cut. You can tell at the edge," he moves her touch to trace the part of the stone he is talking about, "it's got a bit of a corner on it while the rest of the stone is round. Now this is set in silver, kind of wound around the outside, here, so that light can reflect off the center of the stone. On the back-" here he pauses to turn the stone over in her hand and bring her fingers to the clasp, "it's got an attachment for you to pin a cloak with it. Feel how it dips in here? That's what holds the pin. You twist it like this - and be careful, it's sharp - to open it. Closing is just as simple. Lovely little decoration. Subtle, but elegant. Now this," the dwarf again digs in his pouch, producing another trinket, "this one here is a ruby."

Thranduil watches with a barely-concealed smile as the dwarf patiently describes each item in stunning detail, guiding Tauriel's touch over it as he does. Her lips are parted slightly in wonder, picturing the jewels in her head from their description, and the other dwarves watch with small smiles. When all is said and done, Tauriel finds herself the owner of a decently-sized bag of jewels and the recipient of many well-wishes from Erebor.

Thranduil watches from afar until the dwarves follow after Feren and Tauriel heads in the opposite direction, her new gifts held tight against her chest and her eyes glistening with more than the light.

Only then does he allow himself a rather undignified snort as he turns to head for his throne room.

A present from the dwarves on Prince Kili's behalf.

Will this day get any stranger?