C12

Tauriel followed closely behind Prince Fili as he lead her down a series of corridors, up and down a couple of flights of stairs, past a guard's station to a level that was decorated with statues and wall carvings inlaid with silver, gold and mithril and decorated with different jewels and gems. In the time she had spent in Erebor after the great battle she had never been to this level and knew that she wasn't being led toward the great throne room where King Thorin would normally receive his guests nor was it likely to be a place where guests were housed which led her to believe that this was part of the mountain that was reserved for the sole use of the royal family.

After a couple of twists and turns in the passage that made her wonder if she would ever be able to find her way to this spot again, Fili stopped and knocked purposefully on a large gold gilt door that was flanked by two guards in heavy ceremonial armor. He paused for a moment, rocked back on his heels and pushed the door forward before moving inside. She stopped next to Sada just inside the room, Aranel next to her as the door swung shut once more and Fili stepped just slightly in front of them.

The silent pause after the gentle thud the door made seemed to go on into eternity. The Princess Dis was sat in a large, deep wine colored wing chair next to a large hearth where a fire was burning brightly, Lord Círon was sitting opposite her, a large clear glass goblet full of a deep red wine in his hand, King Thorin stood watching them approach flanked by Balin and a very whole and alive looking Kili while Mithrandir sat behind the king's desk, pipe in hand and staring off into the room as though he could see the mysteries of the universe. They were all looking expectantly at them and while her eyes passed over each individual in turn they were held and anchored by a set of brown eyes that made her heartbeat quicken and thunder so loudly in her own ears that she was almost surprised that no one else could hear it.

"Thorin, King Under the Mountain." Fili's voice brought her back to attention and she very deliberately made herself focus all her attention on Erebor's king. "May I present to you Aranel, emissary from Lord Elrond of Rivendell," Aranel bowed deeply as her name was mentioned. "And the Lady Tauriel, Ambassador for King Thranduil of Mirkwood."

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn." She was surprised to hear her voice in greeting considering the way that her mouth had gone quite suddenly dry, as she made her own formal bow to the king.

"We did not think to look forward to your arrival until tomorrow, nor did we expect such excitement upon it." Thorin looked between them, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows as he looked them carefully over. "You are welcome here within the halls of Erebor."

"Thank you, your majesty." They bowed in tandem once more.

"Please, can we offer you refreshment?" Balin moved a step toward a sideboard set with goblets, decanters of wine and what looked like mugs of ale or beer. "Or perhaps a healer had best be called?" He was looking straight at Tauriel as he made the remark.

"I have no wounds that cannot wait until a later time Lord Balin but I am touched by your concern for my welfare." She shook her head. "I am sure that there are many questions that need answering and that refreshments will be welcome to help the process along."

Tauriel kept her eyes focused on the aged adviser as he passed out goblets of wine and mugs of what turned out to be a clear amber ale. She tried to ignore the way that Kili's eyes followed her, burning imprints into her skin despite the fact that she refused to even look in his direction while seats were brought and beverages handed out. She sat softly in the chair offered to her and sipped at the wine she had taken with a somewhat trembling hand until all were seated and the king spoke once more.

"The events on your journey to Erebor disturb me greatly." Thorin said from where he was stood next to his sister, blue eyes focused on the fire's flames as though his words were an afterthought.

"I have spent the last decade guarding those who must traverse the roads of Arda and while bandits and mercenaries as well as the odd orc pack have attacked at times I haven't been hunted the way that we were from the time that we left Imladris until we reached your gates since the months that followed the great battle here at the gates of Erebor." Tauriel let her empty hand rest on top of the bandage that Arenal had wrapped tightly around her leg as she spoke. "Three times we were physically set upon after leaving Imladris and once harm came from one within the escort that you, yourself sent forth from Erebor."

"Tol will be dealt with along with the dwarrow still living from the attack near the gates. Once we have found what we can we shall share what we know and pass judgement." Thorin nodded, his frown deeping along with the lines on his brow.

"Both dwarves and men attacked along the way?" Kili's voice made her head snap around to look at him. He too wore a frown on his face like the others around them but all she could see when he looked at her was concern, concern and a deep emotion whose route cause she refused to examine or speculate upon.

He looked well; his shoulder length hair tamed, somewhat, his braids well-tended and held tight with silver and mithril clasps and his brown eyes dark and as expressive as her memory had recalled. The clothes he wore were finely cut and fit him well, highlighting the strength and size of the dwarf who wore them. His beard was meticulously clipped short and framed his face well and she found that time had not diminished the effect he had on her.

"Indeed, though Tauriel was the only to encounter men, I fear that if men are mixing themselves in dwarven politics the stakes must truly be high." Mithrandir spoke around his pipe to the room at large rather than any particular individual but his voice helped her to break the spell Kili had put upon her once more.

"What Mithrandir says is true, there were only men in the group that I scattered before we crossed the Anduin, it was a mixed group of dwarves and men in good but mismatched armor. Mercenaries, I would suspect and from the north. Before and after the attacks were made by dwarves alone. I am unsure if the men were meant as a distraction or were equal partners in the ventures of those who would see your brother's betrothed dead." She sipped once more at her wine willing herself to look away but finding herself unable.

There he stood in front of her, real and not a shade of her imagination. He was well and whole and only three strides from where she sat but she was barely at liberty to look at him for fear that her feelings would be discovered let alone cover that short distance and touch him. Feel with her own hands his warm flesh, the rise and fall of breath in his lungs nor the beating of his heart.

How many long nights and daylight moments had she wished for a moment such as this? To hear his voice, to speak with him and express what she had not known how to so many long years past. In the fantasies that her mind had conjured there were words and caresses, promises and explanations but instead they were as separate as they had been for every one of those ten years even though the distance had physically shortened. She had thought that just knowing that he was alive was going to satisfy that broken part inside her but instead she found part of herself wanting to break with decorum and convention, throw herself at his feet and at the mercy of those around them...

Instead, she sat straight backed and pressed her fingers against the knot that tied the binding that covered the wound on her leg as Sada, Aranel and Dis gave their perspectives and answered other questions put forth by King Thorin, the princes and Lord Círon. She would have sat there silent forever, watching the way those in the room interacted, her eyes straying to the dark haired dwarven prince as often as they could without staring openly if Fili's sudden catching of her wrist hadn't pulled her from her place of introspection.

"By Mahal, you're bleeding!" The Crown Prince exclaimed. Tauriel blinked and looked at the hand that he was holding, then down at the bandage on her leg that had indeed soaked through with blood as they had spoken. She had been so focused on his brother that she hadn't noticed him moving closer to where she was sat.

"Tauriel!" Kili's exclamation of her name as he moved quickly to stand next to his brother was meant as an admonition but made her want to cry for other reasons as her heart broke all over again over what she had lost as his hand reached for her shoulder and then pulled back to his side once more as she flinched away from Fili's touch. "Call for Oin at once!" He looked over her head toward the door where she was sure a guard was stationed.

"No, please! I am fine really, make no special fuss on my account. I assure you all, I can make it to the healer's wing on my own power." She shook her head and stood quickly, as desperate to get away from such close proximity to the younger prince as she was to get closer to him.

"Lord Balin, perhaps you would be kind enough to escort Lady Tauriel to the healer's wing so that Oin can see to her wounds and set up an escort that will take her to the rooms that she will be using until Lord Círon departs from Erebor." Thorin turned to his adviser who nodded and smiled brightly.

"Follow me lass, it takes a while to become accustomed to the twists and turns in the mountain." Balin paused next to her and offered her his arm, which she took as she allowed him to lead her out of the room and into the depths of the mountain, creating space once more between her and the dwarf that even now held her heart.

The mug in his hand made a very satisfactory sound as it shattered off the stone wall of his office. There was the sound of feet scattering on the other side of the door as servants in the hallway ran from the general vicinity of the room to escape his wrath.

They were right to be afraid.

The note that had just recently arrived was crumpled in his fist and he wanted to do much more than just throw a mug of beer at a wall. The elf's death would have been a bonus, reparation for the treatment of her betters on her behalf in the past but the continued life of the Firebeard caused more than a small hiccup in his plans.

Before the desolation of Smaug, things had been different. The head households of the seven great dwarven families had guarded their bloodlines as sacred and had made sure that the lesser members of their family clans had known their place. With the fall of Erebor things had changed and despite the Longbeards once again possessing the crown jewel of kings they seemed to have forgotten their true station in life, they clung to the simple places that held their beginnings.

There was nothing that could be done now but to go back to the plans that he originally had been cultivating for the Firebeard's death. To work with players that were not the most reliable or trustworthy made him very upset. The great dwarven families had not ever worked well together but there was more than just his own ambition on the line, there were other families that would benefit much more without the Firebeard on the throne if only they were bold enough to try.

Yes, now as the time to call on the old clans.

"Gruvet!" He shouted as he crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a measure of good whisky. Gruvet opened the door cautiously and knelt, head bowed only a step inside the room. "My Lord?"

"Bring the birds, I have messages to send!"

She had two hours before breakfast.

Every bone in her body ached, her muscles felt every stitch that Oin had put in her arm and leg and the cut on her face itched uncomfortably making sleep impossible even if she had been able to sleep knowing that she still had formal matters to attend to and an appearance at a formal court function where she would be acknowledged as the official ambassador for her king all while she continued to ignore the fact that she would be unable to speak her mind to the one individual she dearly wished to. She let her head fall forward and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead into her mare's soft coat and took a steadying breath.

"This is not where I thought that I would end up." Tauriel breathed out and watched the mare's ear flick back to her even as she took another mouthful of the sweet smelling hay that had been provided for her. She could have the horse's full attention if she wanted it but that wasn't why she had spent most of the night in the stall.

How had things changed so drastically in less than a week?

One minute she was out in the world, master of her own fate and free to do as she pleased and now she was locked away in a mountain that she was beginning to believe deserved the moniker that had been bestowed upon it. She had become used to relying on herself, nursing her grief in such a way as she could use it as a tool to her benefit and that of others. But she had been living a lie; she had read the signs given her and ran blindly away from what she had been unable to accept and never looked back.

Now she was an ambassador to Erebor. Once more surrounded by thick, deep walls of stone but this time not by her own choice. How as she supposed to do this job and pretend not to feel at the same time? Urion had always complained that she was too ruled by her passions and her own sense of what was right and wrong and did not take enough time to look dispassionately at the bigger picture. He had despaired of teaching her how to school her features to feign indifference the way that the others seemed naturally able or to keep her mouth shut while her betters debated issues of the realm.

"I should send you home, turn you loose to make your way back to the wide open plains of Rohan and to run among your own kind, free under an unending sky." Even as she spoke the wistful words she knew that she would not do such a thing, no, her mare represented freedom and escape and she was unsure if she would ever be able to give that up. The mare snorted into her hay and Tauriel found herself smiling.

"True, I may need you for more than just support before long." She twisted her fingers in the soft copper mane and sighed deeply. "But we're going to have to give you a different name. I doubt that anyone in Erebor will appreciate the one you currently hold." A different name for the mare was a distraction, a way to let her mind wander to other things, things that did not revolve around a dark haired prince that she would have no hope of avoiding any other way. "What was it Cwene said they had considered calling you? Rhiannon? For an old, nearly forgotten goddess?"

"She has more than one name?" Kili's rich baritone had her head snapping up and had her transferring her weight away from the mare to rest squarely on her own two feet again despite the dull ache in her injured leg. She looked at him cautiously, surprised to find him alone without guard, companion or sibling nearby the way that she had expected.

He looked well rested, his hair freshly combed and braided, his clothes freshly pressed and richly decorated in a way that seemed almost at odds with the mischief in his brown eyes. He looked the same as when she had first encountered him in the woods and cells of her king, the only time that she had truly known him to be hale and whole. No pallor of sickness or near death clung to skin that had managed, somehow, to retain the look of one who had spent long hours outside under the sun.

"Rendered you speechless, have I?" He grinned and she found herself able to come back to herself again. "If I had known you were going to spend the night in the stables rather than the healing halls, I would have come to see you much sooner."

"I thank you for your concern, your highness, but it is misplaced." She found her voice and remembered her manners enough to bow the way that she would have in front of her own prince had the occasion called for it. "I was not grievously injured and needed only a few stitches and fresh bandages. There was no need for me to take up more of the healer's time or energy." She untangled her fingers from her horse's mane only to place them on the warm muscle of her shoulder instead as her chestnut head came up and she looked with interest at the intruder to the peace they had previously been surrounded with.

"So you came to the stable?" The mirth and mischief that had ruled his expression before faded away and a frown had hardened his features.

"I have spent much time in the last few years, traveling and sleeping rough. Finely appointed rooms and luxurious furnishings will take some time to get used to. I hadn't expected to ever come back to the east again." Her throat felt dry and her mouth like it was filled with cotton. Here he was, finally, standing in front of her and she found she did not know what to do or say, all of the things she had long thought important deserting her and leaving her next to mute.

"I see." His words were clipped short and he had stiffened. "Then I will leave you to your peace until our scheduled meeting." He bowed formally himself, a movement that she mirrored out of pure reflex before he turned on his heel and left the stable doorway.

For a moment Tauriel stood frozen as the implications of the exchange she had just had became a reality to her shock addled mind. She had greeted him with formality, like one would a stranger despite the playfulness of his initial comments. For all that he seemed familiar, he appeared unrecognizable or perhaps it was that she was too much changed by circumstances and the world that she had walked in.

Grief of another kind took control of her, making her knees weak and chest tight. She took the few steps across the stable to perch herself on a tightly bound bale of straw that had been placed along one side for future use, her hand reaching inside her coat and pulling out the rune stone. The blue-black stone was warm in her hand from where it had been hidden in the pocket close to her skin and looked the same as it always had as she turned it over in her fingers, seeking comfort from the familiar action and finding none of the peace she had found in the past.

What had she done? Had she dwelled so long in dreams and memories of the past that she was unable to move past them and make sense of reality? Would she ever have the opportunity to do things right after this blunder and if so would it be best for them both, perhaps, if she let him believe that she held no more regard for him than that of a friend? Could she live like that and not go insane?

She let her head fall into her hands, ignoring the irritation from the cut on her face, the press of the rune stone against her uninjured cheek and for the first time since leaving Imladris allowed her eyes to produce the tears that had so often been close to the surface. There had to be a way to fix the problem that she had been presented with or if there was no solution available perhaps there was a way to escape entirely. She pushed the tears away in frustration, her hand clenching tightly around the stone as she swiped away at the moisture on her cheeks. Running away from her problems had become far too easy a defense mechanism and if she was truly honest with herself, it had left her weary to the bone but she could not allow her circumstances to break her now.

"Tauriel?" This time Kili's voice was tentative, soft even, but his presence didn't surprise her as it had before, if she hadn't truly been expecting it, she had been hoping for it.

"I believed you dead and buried." She looked up and the words that she couldn't say before came tumbling out of her mouth as she allowed her eyes to find his. "I waited and I watched and then Thorin called for Bard to attend him. The fire had gone out and I knew that you had died, that I couldn't stay and watch what was to come. I couldn't face the reality of a burial or bring myself to throw myself at the mercy of my King so I went west and came no closer to Erebor than Edoras since."

"You've believed me dead for ten years?" He was the one frozen in place now as if he could not comprehend the words she had spoken.

"For longer than that." She confirmed. "I only found out that you lived not yet two days ago."

Glossery

Gîl síla erin lû e-govaded vín. - A star shines upon the hour of our meeting.