Thranduil watches Tauriel with his brows pinched as the girl makes her way down the hall, a hand extended to the side so that her fingertips can trace the wall.
Something must be wrong.
His own blind eye - the one that was so damaged by dragon fire ages ago - is healed and whole once more. His sight from it is as good as ever.
But Tauriel is still blind.
Thranduil shifts a little, settling himself more comfortably as he watches his former guard captain make her way about the far end of the house.
It is starting to worry him.
His own sight hadn't returned immediately upon arriving, and so he'd assumed that it was a gradual healing process, but despite the almost half a year that they have been here she does not seem to be showing any improvements. He knew that she would not have started healing as soon as they had set foot on the shore, of course, but he had at least expected something by now.
But as far as he can tell, she still can not see.
Thranduil sighs, shifting position again so that he can rest his chin in the palm of his hand.
It just doesn't make any sense.
His own vision had started healing a week or so after landing - shortly after his wife had finally managed to track him down.
He had woken one morning to a sharp knock on the door, and had dragged himself from bed assuming it was Gallion to come pester him about some inane thing or other.
What he had not expected was to find himself staring back at a face that he hadn't seen for centuries, and thought that he might never see again.
His name had never sounded sweeter than from his wife's lips at that moment, the word like a sigh of relief over her tongue as her expression melted into a warm smile, and he'd been entirely unable to speak for the tears choking his throat closed.
His wife has not needed more of an invitation that his wobbling smile, however, and had immediately flung herself into his arms in relief, murmuring "you're here, thank Eru, you're here," over and over.
It was all he'd been able to do to choke out her name in reply.
Tauriel had come into the front room shortly after that, worried at the tears she heard in his voice and uncertain about the strange new person she'd heard, and Thranduil had given a watery laugh as he introduced the two to one another.
The blind elleth had clearly not expected to find herself the center of attention shortly after that, but his wife had taken a long moment to fawn over Tauriel as well.
He had worried, at first, what she would think about him taking in another child after her passing, but the Queen of the Greenwood had welcomed Tauriel as readily as if the girl had been Legolas.
They seemed to be of a kindred spirit, Tauriel and his wife. The both of them wild and energetic and adventurous and kind.
It was really little wonder that young Tauriel had so captured his heart when he first rescued her.
Further down the hall, the girl in question has stopped her movement, her body turned to the side as she stares at a flickering candle that lights the passage.
Tauriel has her hands down at her sides, so he does not have to worry about her burning herself, but that doesn't stop the slight tinge of concern that threads its way through his chest as he watches her peer blindly at the wall.
He will occasionally catch her like this - focusing intently at some object or other until he calls her away, almost as if by simply squinting hard enough she can somehow peer through the blackness.
"You're staring at her again," a soft voice murmurs from his side, and Thranduil looks up with a smile.
"My love."
"Good morning, meleth nin," she smiles, leaning down to return his gentle kiss.
Thranduil obligingly shifts so that his wife can perch more comfortably in his lap, the elleth curling into his hold with a gentle smile as he wraps his arms around her.
For a moment his wife is quiet, content just to sit in his company, but after a while she does glance back up at him with a brow raised, an expectant little tilt to her head.
"What is it that troubles you so about our dear Tauriel?" she prods gently. "You have been fretting over her for weeks now."
"It doesn't make sense," he admits with a sigh, leaning his chin in his hand. "She should be healed. The poison she was given was mild, and should have caused minimal damage. If my sight could be restored after being destroyed by dragon fire, why not hers?"
The beautiful elleth at his side turns her gaze to Tauriel for a long second, lips pursed and brows drawn in thought.
"It is not always the physical ailment that is the problem," his wife hums, threading her fingers in between his as she too watches Tauriel stare at a candle on the wall. "Sometimes it is emotional damage that prevents healing."
"Emotional?" he asks, sympathy twisting like thorns in his chest.
His wife nods.
"Sometimes the darkness of the world will follow people to Arda, as it is a hard thing to shake."
Thranduil raises a brow at her in question, drawing her closer to his chest in mild concern and sympathy.
"I still bear a few of my own scars," his wife shrugs in explanation, turning over her hand to reveal a pale stain on the skin of her forearm. "I suspect that they will fade once our dear Legolas returns."
"Do you think that her sight is waiting on our son to return as well?" he murmurs.
"Perhaps," she whispers. "Or perhaps she has more on her chest than we know."
"Her parents," Thranduil says softly, the thought striking him all of a sudden. "She was orphaned when I found her - surely her parents are here somewhere, that we might find them for her."
"I am certain that they are," his wife nods. "I can begin searching, if you would like. I suspect that I may already have a good idea where to start."
"If you could," he murmurs. "It saddens me to see her struggle like this, knowing that my own sight has been restored."
"Have you told her that you can see again?" his wife asks, her voice low.
"No. It seemed a cruel knowledge to give her when she is still blind," he murmurs, and she nods.
"A wise decision, my love. Oh, Tauriel, dear, be careful," she calls suddenly, and Thranduil looks up in time to see Tauriel yank her hand back to her side from where she had been reaching toward the lit flame of the candle.
"Yes, My Lady," she responds immediately, ducking her head, and Thranduil hums thoughtfully.
"What is so interesting about that candle, Tauriel? You have been studying it for nearly five minutes now."
"I was trying to tell whether it was lit or not," she replies sheepishly.
"Well don't get yourself burned trying to find out," he scolds lightly.
"Yes, My Lord."
She ducks her head, thoroughly chastised, and Thranduil hefts a little sigh.
"Come here, before you get yourself into trouble."
Tauriel crosses to them obediently, and barely a second goes by before his wife has her hands in Tauriel's beautiful hair, teasing little snares free and deftly twisting the loose strands of it into braids to keep it out of her face. Tauriel settles herself on the floor before the two of them, relaxing into the familiar touch of someone playing with her hair.
They are all silent for a moment, merely enjoying one another's company, before the older elleth sends him a knowing glance, nodding down at Tauriel.
Thranduil gives her a nod.
"Tauriel, dear," the older elleth begins softly. "You haven't met many people outside of the citizens of the woodland realm since arriving on these shores, have you?"
"No, My Lady," Tauriel replies, her tone soft and almost sleepy with content as his wife's fingers trace through her hair. "I have spent most of my time here."
His wife hums a little sound in false contemplation, giving a long moment's pause before speaking once more.
"I have a number of friends that I have crossed paths with in this land over the last few millennia...I was wondering if I might be able to convince you to meet them? I believe that some of them may be familiar to you."
"...familiar?" the younger elleth asks hesitantly.
"Yes," she nods. "Although you will not have seen them for quite a long time. My husband has told me that you were born to a small nomadic tribe of Sylvan, around the year twenty-three-sixty?"
Tauriel nods, her body tense with nervous excitement.
"The year before it, yes."
The older elleth nods thoughtfully.
A moment later his wife stands, stretching for a moment before tossing him a little smile.
"Tauriel, I am going for a walk in the garden. Would you like to accompany me?" she offers mildly.
The girl perks up, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she scampers to her feet.
"Yes, My lady, I would love to."
The older elleth holds out a hand, twisting her wrist a little so that her bracelets jingle to show Tauriel where she is, and the younger girl is quick to take hold of her.
"Now, my dear," she begins gently as she links arms with Tauriel. "Tell me what you remember of your childhood..."
Thranduil watches as his wife leads Tauriel off toward the garden, and he feels a surge of warmth in his chest.
Perhaps they will be able to help her yet.