"Must you leave again, so soon?" Tauriel asks, pleading clear in her voice. Legolas lets out a sigh and gathers her hands into his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"There is a great darkness coming, Tauriel. I must do what I can to stop it."

"Be careful," she demands, and Legolas gathers her close and presses his lips to her forehead before he murmurs "I will."

They cling to one another, pressed tight enough to feel the other's heart beating, and Legolas is reluctant to let her go. When he had left after the Battle of the Five Armies - as most have taken to calling the desperate fight for Erebor against the orcs - they had barely said a word to one another. She had been lost in grief, and he had been hurt and angry. Now they have reconciled, and parting again hurts him as much as severing a limb.

"You take care of yourself as well," he says, "you and Ada, look after each other until I get back."

"We will."

The two of them are silent for a long moment, and Legolas finds himself with a hundred things he wants to say but no words to fit any of them. Tauriel somehow finds her voice first, clearing her throat with a forced little cough.

"Well," Tauriel breathes, "I suppose this is it, then."

"Yes."

"Goodbye, my friend."

"Goodbye, Tauriel."

Legolas draws her into another hug, pressing a kiss to her temple as he feels her thread her hands through his hair. They stay like that for a long moment, their hearts beating against each other's chest as Legolas feels his eyes well up with tears.

He doesn't want to let go.

He has to, though, and after allowing himself only a moment more to hold her, he steps away. Tauriel lets her hands fall slowly back to her side, looking as upset as he feels.

Legolas forces a smile out of habit, even though she cannot see it, and begins to walk away, his footsteps hollow in the large room.

"Legolas?" Tauriel calls as he reaches the door.

He stops, one hand on the frame as he glances back at her over his shoulder.

She is standing alone in the middle of the room, her hair flame-bright in the morning sun that filters in through the windows and her pale eyes focused unfailingly on him. She is every inch as radiant and fierce as ever, but he can almost feel the ache in her heart at having to say goodbye to another that she loves, possibly forever.

She is a far cry from the helpless, orphaned child that his father brought back to the palace centuries ago, but he still wants to protect her. To hold her close and tell her that everything will be okay even if it's a lie. She is his little sister and his best friend. He has held her hand as she grew up, and fought in her defense as she fell down. She has helped cover him in armor and in bandages and in fancy robes for ceremonies that both of them planned to sneak out of, and they have slept and fought and played and lived at each other's side for as long as he can remember. Leaving her again feels like leaving half of himself behind.

But he cannot be with her now. She can no longer guard his back. They must part ways, perhaps for good, and he wants to cry at the thought of them both surviving through so much against all odds only to be cast apart now, possibly forever.

But he has to be strong.

Not for her - she is holding her own with nerves of steel despite the tears glistening along her lower lashes - but for himself, so he can find the will somewhere inside of him to walk away without looking back.

"Yes, Tauriel?" he asks at length, his voice soft with affection and a dull sadness as he memorizes every detail he can of her, hoping this is not the last time they will be together.

She is silent for a long moment, her throat working as she swallows her own emotions and picks her words, but then her mouth quirks up into a familiar, troublemaking smirk that is only a little bit forced, and his heart throbs.

"Send 'em back to Morgoth in pieces for me," she demands, fingers ghosting to her side where her blade would normally be kept. Legolas grins back at her through his tears, placing a hand over his heart even though she cannot see it.

"I will be sure to. Take care, mellon, until I see you again."

"Until we meet again."

With that, Legolas turns and does not look back.

Thranduil looks up sharply as he catches a whisper of movement from the doorway.

Tauriel is standing there, her blind eyes glassy with tears. A single strand of her hair is stuck to her face, curling a loop through the glistening saline running down her cheeks before falling clumsily across her chest. She looks nearly as broken as when he found her atop Ravenhill.

"Tauriel," he whispers, his voice cracking slightly at the end, but he doesn't bother to hide his sorrow from her. She of all people is aware of the pain he feels, which is why he doesn't send her away. "Come here, child."

She crosses the room, stopping just before him, and he reaches out to catch her hands in his. A gentle tug is all it takes to sit her down on the corner of the throne at his side, and he hugs her close as a sob racks her frame.

"Will he be okay?" she asks, clinging to him, her voice tiny and pleading. "Will he come back?"

It is a long moment until Thranduil can answer, his throat choked with emotion.

"I do not know."

"Will we ever see him again?" she begs, and Thranduil can do nothing but hold her tight in silence.

He does not know.

He does not dare answer.

Legolas is all he has left of his family in this world, and the thought that he has just bid him farewell for the last time is enough to steal his breath and send grief stabbing through his already-shattered heart.

There is a great evil coming, he can no longer deny that. His son has been called to the forefront of the battle, to fight against one of the most powerful forces in Middle Earth, and he is terrified for him.

Tauriel seems to sense his distress and sorrow, and after a moment - in a surprisingly bold move - she climbs to sit in his lap with her arms twined around his neck. He can feel her trembling as he puts his arms around her, but her voice does not waver when she next speaks.

"He'll be okay. He has to be."

Thranduil takes a shuddering breath as he tucks Tauriel's head beneath his chin, feeling tears burn a hot trail from his eyes to his jaw, where they fall into her red hair. How he wishes he could believe her.

"He has to be," she whispers again, clinging to him.

Thranduil just strokes her hair in silence as the two of them mourn.