He is warm and alive beneath her touch, she can hear his breath - ragged but steady - and she wants to be relieved but something is wrong, and she feels uneasy and sick. She gently brushes her fingertips across his forehead, catching his hair to pull it out of the way. It is coarse between her fingers, and she smooths it back before clasping his shoulder to turn him over onto his back.
Bolg's face is grinning up at her from Kili's body and Tauriel shrieks, trying to scramble back as his hands close around her throat and tighten.
Tauriel awakens with the sound of her own scream echoing in her ears, clawing at anything within reach as she tries to fight her way free of whatever is strangling her. She is breathing hard, soaked in sweat, and not entirely convinced that she is not still up on Ravenhill - blind - with Bolg grappling her.
She grasps at her surroundings, trying to figure out where she is. She can't seem to catch her breath, and a phantom tightness is still closed about her throat where the orc's fingers had strangled her a mere heartbeat ago. She feels cloth against her sweaty palm and latches on, forcing her mind to focus. Cloth. Sheets. She is tangled in her blankets.
It takes her a few seconds to thrash her way free, kicking the covers onto the floor just to get them away from her. That done, she steadies herself on her hands and knees and starts forcing deep breaths.
A thump from somewhere in the distance makes her jolt, and her breath catches in terror as she hears a cry from a phantom voice nearby that she is not entirely sure that she imagined.
With a whimper, Tauriel curls into herself.
She can't tell where she is. Her mind is telling her that she's in her room, but her body is still wired with adrenaline and convinced that she is back on Ravenhill, leaving her lost and confused somewhere in between with her breathing coming sharp and fast as she panics.
Desperate for something to ground herself, her hand grasps clumsily for her dresser, her fingers trembling to the point of near uselessness. The feel of Kili's runestone, cool and smooth against her palm, gives her something to focus on so she can calm herself down from her impending hysteria.
It was just a dream. She is in her room. She is in her bed. She is safe. Legolas killed the orc.
And Kili is dead.
The last thought is not only unwelcome but bitterly painful, and she gasps out a breath as agony twists sharp and ruthless between her ribs.
Seeing Kili in her dream, being able to talk to him, touch him, has made the loss all the more acute.
But none of that happened. It was all imaginary.
He died before she could truly hold his hand, or kiss him, or tell him that she loved him, all because she was too weak to save him. Now he will never know that she returned his love.
And she will be alone, forever.
Tauriel breaks down sobbing, curled into a little ball in the middle of her bed.
She grabs up two handfuls of her damp nightdress and presses it to her face to quiet her tears, breathing in the familiar scent of her room and warm cotton as she tries to calm herself down, but every thought leads her back to the same image of Kili lying lifeless on the cold stone, his blood creeping in rivulets across the ground. Or worse, Kili's body with the face of the orc that slaughtered him.
Tauriel gasps shuddering breaths between her sobs, her nails biting into her palms. She cannot even light a candle to separate herself from the nightmare with the light.
She is trapped in darkness with no way out.
The gentle rap of knuckles on her bedroom door makes Tauriel start, jerking her body upright.
"Tauriel?" a soft voice calls. "I heard you scream, are you okay?"
It is Ennith.
Before she truly knows what she is doing, Tauriel is stumbling out of bed, over to the door. Her hands clumsily search for the lock, turning it with a clack before she pulls the door open, and Ennith only has the chance to breathe her name before Tauriel has flung herself into the older elf's arms.
She is sobbing in full force again, and can feel her body shaking in Ennith's hold, but she feels safe.
"Tauriel," the healer murmurs, her voice tinged the slightest bit with worry as she wraps her arms around Tauriel's back and hugs her close. "It's all right, sweetheart, I've got you. You're okay."
Tauriel buries her face in Ennith's collar, her breath catching as she tries to smother her tears back and ultimately fails. Ennith hushes her, holding her close and stroking her hair as she murmurs comfortingly.
Tauriel tries to calm herself down, but it still feels too real. Her hand is cold where she turned over the corpse, her throat still sore where Bolg had used Kili's hands to strangle her, and another sharp sob wracks her body as she remembers the feel of a kiss that she never got, and never will.
"It was just a dream," Ennith soothes, running a hand through her hair in long, slow strokes. "You're okay, Tauriel. You're safe. It was just a dream."
Tauriel manages to nod, taking a shaky breath. It was just a dream.
And yet...was it entirely?
Kili is still dead. Her underlings from the guard were still slaughtered by orcs at the battle. It seems the only things she can place solely in the dream are the good ones, and Tauriel tightens her hold on Ennith as she desperately tries to clear her mind before it follows that particular path.
Ennith doesn't let go, allowing Tauriel to be the one who eventually draws back, when she feels that she finally has a grip on her emotions.
"I should go back to bed," Tauriel whispers. "Lord Thranduil expects me early tomorrow. I am sorry if I woke you."
The healer takes her by the shoulders, her grip gentle but firm. Grounding her.
"Are you going to be okay?" she asks softly, and Tauriel hesitates. The thought of returning to her room sets off the feeling of unease once again. Ennith must see something in her expression, however, because the healer releases her and steps close.
"Let's go back to my room first. I'll make you some chamomile tea."
Tauriel nods, roughly smudging her palms across her cheeks as Ennith puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her down the hall.
The healer's room feels warm, the scents of herbs and spices heavy in the air but not cloying, and Tauriel perches on a stool as Ennith stokes a small fire in the grate.
"Try to relax, dear. Deep breaths," she instructs, and Tauriel obeys, focusing on slowing her heart rate until the kettle is ready.
The healer presses a warm mug into Tauriel's hands, settling on a piece of furniture nearby. Tauriel hears the slosh of liquid from that direction and assumes that Ennith has made herself a cup as well.
Tauriel breathes in the spiced scent from the mug before lifting it to her lips, savoring the hint of vanilla that the honey brings out of the chamomile as the warmth curls down her throat to settle comfortingly in her stomach. Closing her eyes, she focuses on the other sensations around her and allows the dream to slip away.
When Tauriel finishes her tea, Ennith takes her mug and has her lie on her stomach across the bed, so she can knead the tension from Tauriel's back and shoulders. The herbs and the gentle touch soothe her into drowsiness, and Tauriel is asleep again before she realizes it.
What must be hours later, Tauriel awakes in her own bed, the covers tucked neatly in place around her once again and her nightdress changed for a clean one. Her runestone is on the dresser when she grasps for it, and she takes a moment to clutch it to her chest and just breathe.
She feels like she has been sleeping for ages, and bolts to her feet when she hears chatting voices from the hall outside. It must be far into the morning already for many people to be about. She is late.
It takes her but a moment to scramble into her uniform, her hair tossed into a simple braid to keep it out of the way until she can properly deal with it. Or until Thranduil tires of looking at the hasty plaits and takes it upon himself to fix them for her.
Tauriel hesitates before the door, taking a slow breath to compose herself before stepping out into the hall and turning for the throne room.
Someone calls her name, and Tauriel stops up short. She turns, recognizing the voice, and smiles shyly as footsteps approach her.
"Ennith."
"So glad to see you looking better this morning, dear. I already had word sent to Lord Thranduil that you would be late, so don't worry yourself about that," Ennith says as she comes to a stop before her, and Tauriel tries to hide a smile as the healer fusses over her, brushing wrinkles from her clothes and smoothing her hair more into place. "He is expecting you whenever you feel up to it."
Tauriel catches Ennith's hands, giving them a little squeeze.
"Thank you," she breathes. "For everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"It's no trouble, dear," Ennith soothes. "Like I told you, if you ever need anything, just ask and I will be more than glad to help."
Tauriel offers her a smile, and Ennith leans to brush a kiss to her forehead.
"Now you'd better run along. Lord Thranduil will be waiting."
Tauriel nods, shooting her one last grateful smile, before slipping off to her post for the day.