The bustling of people through the halls and around the throne room is dizzying, and she can barely keep track of everyone calling her name.
"Tauriel?"
"Tauriel!"
Everyone is talking at once, and Tauriel's head is spinning as she jumps from one conversation to the next, answering questions as best she can.
"Yes, the East Hall has been cleared for the celebration. Last I heard, Faelwen was taking charge of that. Lord Thranduil said to start bringing the Dorwinion up early. Dinner is planned for nightfall. No, I absolutely did not give permission for him to do that! Make sure you double check that order before you sent it out. Where is Gallion? Tell the band to begin playing as soon as the feast starts. Can someone go and check that the guard has been notified of the change of plans? No, I don't know if that cloth is the right color, I can't see!"
Tauriel turns, catching a quick breath as she feels people shift around her, leaving to arrange the festival, but she doesn't have long before she is once again bombarded with questions.
"What should we do with the flowers?"
"Shall we set up viewing platforms on the terrace, or in the garden?"
"Did the King say what cloak he wanted prepared for this evening?"
"Tauriel!" Alassé's voice cuts through the crowd, startling her into turning. "Tauriel! Come on, we have to get you ready!"
"Yes, yes, I'm coming! I've just got to-"
"No, you have to come now or you won't be ready in time for the feast!"
A hand closes insistently around her arm, and Tauriel finds herself getting tugged away mid-conversation.
"Flowers go in the halls, set up viewing in the garden, and Lord Thranduil said to use the silver one," Tauriel calls as Alassé hauls her off. "Don't forget to tell the cellar-masters to bring up the wine early or they'll be too drunk to haul the barrels up the stairs later!"
"Tauriel, they'll be fine," Alassé laughs. "They've been preparing this feast every year for centuries. Really, they can manage without you for half an hour."
Tauriel lets out a sigh, following the other elf through the halls.
"I know, I know. It's just…this is the first thing that Lord Thranduil has trusted me to manage on my own since I became his assistant. I want it all to be perfect," she shrugs.
"I've noticed. You've been working yourself to death over this."
"I'm the King's advisor-"
"And you need to look the part too, right?" Alassé prompts, a smile in her tone. "Which means you can't very well show up for the feast with messy braids and work clothes on!"
Tauriel is pulled off into a side room, and it takes her a long second to realize that Alassé has dragged her all the way back to her chambers as she is pointedly seated on the bed with a little bounce.
"Which outfit did you want to wear?" the other elf's voice calls, the sound muffled as she rustles through what Tauriel can only assume is her closet.
"I don't know. You pick," Tauriel calls back, wringing her hands in her lap impatiently. "I need to get back to the throne room before-"
"Relax, would you?" Alassé laughs, her voice getting fractionally louder as she approaches. "This is a celebration! Have fun! Now, let's find you an outfit. How does the dark blue silk dress sound?"
A little throb of emotion aches in Tauriel's chest before she can smother it back, and her voice is hoarse when she replies "no blue" in a whisper.
Alassé is quiet for a second, and Tauriel swallows hard as she very pointedly pushes the memory of a tattered, cobweb-coated tunic in Durin blue to the back of her mind.
"Okay…then how about the green?" Alassé asks, her chipper tone only a little bit forced.
"Green is fine," Tauriel replies, trying to smile for the other elf's sake.
"Well, hurry up and get dressed, then. We still have to do your hair!"
Tauriel does as she is told, obediently letting Alassé dress her up as she tries to stay chipper.
This is the first Mereth Nuin Giliath she will be celebrating since losing Kili.
She's been trying very hard not to think about that fact, burying herself in any task that Thranduil will give her with full enthusiasm, but now that all the planning is done she has nothing to distract her.
The sadness has been creeping up on her all day, and she had been ignoring it as best she could up until now, but as Alassé takes her by the arm and leads her into the main hall where the feast is going on, she can no longer run from it.
Everyone around her is laughing and joyous.
And she just feels hollow.
A year.
It has been a year since she first met her dwarven prince and wondered if there was perhaps something for her beyond the forest borders. Since she learned of runestones and fire-moons and what love – true love – felt like.
Since she lost everything.
It doesn't take long before her emotions start to get the better of her, and she slips away from the celebration, her feet taking her down to the dungeons.
As Tauriel once again finds herself standing outside of Kili's cell, fingering the runestone in her pocket, she takes a second to consider just how many times she's found herself standing here. Not making her way through the forest where they first met, or itching to go to Laketown where she cured his wound, or even atop the cold mountaintop where she saw him last - but here in Thranduil's dungeons. Where he'd first looked up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and that beautiful smile, staring like she was the most beautiful creature in the world.
Tauriel lets out a slow breath, her hands clasped around the cold metal bars. She can remember standing here, looking down into a pair of gentle brown eyes as - for reasons unknown - she explained the Feast of Starlight to a creature of the earth. She remembers the wonder in his eyes as he stared up at her like he was seeing the stars for the first time, right there in that dingy little prison-
The memory brings tears to her sightless eyes, and a sob catches hard in her throat as she lets herself sink to the floor.
The tears that have been building over the past week finally overflow, and Tauriel lets her head hang as she cries, feeling the weight of the braid that Alassé had woven I her hair tugging at the red locks.
She misses Kili.
She doesn't know how long she stays there, but her tears have nearly run dry by the time the soft, shuffling hiss of uneven footsteps catches her attention.
"Tauriel?"
Thranduil's gentle call of her name, his words slurred rather heavily with drink, draws Tauriel from her misery enough to reply.
"My Lord?" she asks softly.
The rustling of robes accompanies Thranduil crouching beside her, and Tauriel catches the heady scent of Dorwinion on his breath as he speaks.
"Why are you crying, child?"
He's been drinking for a while, that much is clear.
He, like most wood elves, tended to over-indulge at celebrations, and Mereth Nuin Giliath was no exception. (Not that her king ever needed an excuse to drink.)
He is plastered.
"Memories," she whispers with a shrug, smoothing her hands along the length of her gown just to have something to do with them.
Thranduil hums a little noise in consideration, and Tauriel feels the clumsy stroke of his hand over her head a moment later, repeating the motion a few times before he scoops one of her hands into his.
"Come now," he murmurs, drawing her to her feet. "Mereth Nuin Giliath is a time for joy, not tears."
Tauriel smudges a hand across her cheeks, nodding, but is surprised to feel a pair of arms wrap around her a second later, drawing her into a hug.
"My Lord?" she asks hesitantly as he all but cuddles her to his chest.
"Don't look so sad," he scolds lightly. "It's depressing."
"My Lord, you're drunk."
"Yes I am," he replies without an ounce of shame. "Come upstairs, get drunk with me."
Tauriel can't help a laugh at that, the sound still a little choked with tears, and she feels Thranduil press a clumsy kiss to her forehead.
"Have you left any wine for the rest of us?" she asks, half guiding him back toward the stairs and biting back a comment about letting the blind lead.
"I'm sure I could scrounge up a glass or two. Even if I have to take it from someone else."
Tauriel smiles, shaking her head.
"If you insist, My Lord."
"I do."