Chapter Two
Tauriel decided to stay the night in the ruins of Lake-town. She did not have the energy to go any further. She had her own injuries to tend to, injuries she had ignored in the long hours that had passed in what she could only call a nightmarish haze.
She leaned her new bow against the wall and set her quiver on a table. The house she had chosen as her temporary shelter was not completely unfamiliar. It belonged to Bard. She'd chosen it because she knew it, and because it was one of the few that had survived Smaug's wrath intact. Or mostly intact. She glanced up at the roof, the ragged holes that had been left by the attacking Orcs. Cold filtered in, settling in her bones, but she barely noticed. She rested a hand on the table where Kili had lain so she could heal him from the agony of the Morgul poison. For all the good it had done.
Her heart gave another painful kick. He couldn't be gone. Not a man so vibrant, a man who could joke in the heart of the Mirkwood dungeons. Not a man who had, ever so briefly, given her something she'd never imagined having. She had lived more than six hundred years, and she had never felt a connection to anyone the way she had felt connected to Kili. Not even Legolas. There was kinship and deep affection there, but what she had begun to feel for Kili was something different. Something altogether more immediate and terrifying.
If this is love, she had told Thranduil, I don't want it.
She lit only a single lamp, and by its meager light gathered strips of cloth and a bowl of water to begin cleaning her wounds. She ached in a hundred places, was bruised in a hundred more, but not even all of the wounds together were enough to take her life.
She dropped the strip of cloth she held and slid down to the floor. She leaned back against the wall. She lifted her hands, saw the dirt and blood smudged across the backs of them. She let them drop into her lap and closed her eyes. She was so tired. Tired and alone. There was nothing else alive in this ruined town. People would be back eventually, to salvage supplies, to rebuild. Bard had implied as much earlier. But for now, she was alone, and she thought it fitting that she begin the rest of her life amidst the charred ruins of Esgaroth. For it was here, she thought, that she had begun to admit to herself the strength of her feelings for Kili. She had begun to imagine, and want, a different sort of life.
A life she would never have.
She opened her eyes, looked up through the ruined roof and saw stars high overhead. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but the stars seemed brighter tonight. More vibrant. Almost alive. As if the stars themselves were celebrating the end of the battle.
She pushed herself to her feet and stepped out onto the balcony. She stared up at a sky that sparkled with countless stars. It was a sight that should have filled her heart. It was the sacred light of her people on full display. But instead she felt only an empty well in the space where her heart should have been. Kili was up there now amongst those stars. There could be no other reason for their brightness.
She dropped her gaze. Kili didn't belong in the starlight, not yet. He should have been here beside her, staring up and soaking in the beauty. They should have had a chance. They deserved a chance.
She turned away, dashing the wetness from her cheeks as she went back inside. She wished suddenly that she had kept the rune stone after all. It would be a tangible piece of him she could hold onto, a memory in her hand during the long years to come. Her fingers curled as if holding it now. She wanted a piece of him. She wanted him.
She went back inside, extinguished the lamp, and slid back to the floor to endure the long night to come.
"I think I'd like to stay here sometime," Bofur said as they walked through the ruined streets of Dale. "You know, once they fix it up and all."
Dwalin shook his head. "I'll stick to Erebor. Plenty to do there. I remember it, before Smaug. Never thought I'd see it again, I can tell you that much."
"I wish Bilbo had stayed. Thorin could use the friend right now. Perhaps Bilbo could convince him to let his wounds be treated."
"Thorin won't let a soul near him until Fili and Kili are out of danger. And for that to happen, we have to find the elf."
"I know you don't want to trust her," Bofur said. "And before now I never would have imagined myself trusting an elf. But you didn't see her heal Kili in Lake-town. A wonder, it was. And you didn't see her at Ravenhill. I've never seen the like before. An elf warrior weeping over a fallen dwarf. Had we not come upon her, I think she would have stayed there until she froze to death."
"No indeed, I've never seen the like," Dwalin said. And still he found it hard to believe. Elves didn't help dwarves without a reason. And even when there was a reason, such as a dragon chasing them from their rightful home, elves still didn't help. That was what he'd seen, that was what he knew. But if Thorin wanted them to bring the elf woman to Erebor, that's what they would do.
They found Bard wrapping a blanket around his younger daughter in the shelter they'd found near the center of Dale. "A visit from Erebor in the middle of the night," Bard said when he stepped outside. "The Orc armies are defeated. Surely there is not more trouble already."
"No trouble, not of that sort," Bofur said. "We are looking for the elf woman, Tauriel. Have you seen her?"
"An elf needed at Erebor? Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"You are not the only one," Dwalin muttered.
Bofur threw him a frustrated glare before turning back to Bard. "She knows the healing magic of her kind. Fili and Kili both hover near death. Thorin himself has serious injuries he refuses to let anyone see to until his nephews are safe. We need her help to save them. Please, have you seen her?"
Bard looked down at the two dwarves. One surly, one desperate, but both willing to travel through the night in search of help for their kin.
And indeed, he had heard tell of Tauriel's healing magic. Once he had found suitable shelter for his children, they had regaled him with tales of what had happened at their home in Lake-town. Even if he couldn't picture it himself, he believed their tales of her healing light and the lyrical cadence of the Sindarin healing words. And besides, he had stood before the woman himself. He had seen devastation in her eyes, the kind of devastation he'd felt when he'd lost his wife so many years ago.
"Aye, she came through here several hours ago. She would not stay, and she did not say where she intended to go from here."
Bofur and Dwalin shared a look. "If she is headed for Mirkwood," Dwalin said, "she will need to go through what is left of Lake-town first."
"I do not think Mirkwood is her destination," Bard said.
"Why not?" Bofur wondered. "It is her home."
"Not anymore. Some of my people witnessed a confrontation on the shores after we fled Lake-town. A group of elves on horseback came, and told Legolas that King Thranduil had banished Tauriel from Mirkwood. So if not there, I have no way of knowing where she plans to go."
Bofur paced away, thinking. He remembered her as he'd last seen her. "She was injured on Ravenhill. I saw blood and wounds, and she limped a little when she left us. I do not think she would go far, not tonight. Perhaps she found shelter in Lake-town for the night."
"There is nothing left of Lake-town," Dwalin said. "She couldn't have gone there."
"There are buildings here and there that still stand," Bard corrected. "Most of the town is destroyed, but not all. We plan to begin salvaging what we can tomorrow."
"We need to go tonight," Bofur said. "There is no time to waste. Do you have a boat we can borrow? There is plenty of starlight to row by, and we do not know how much longer Fili and Kili have. Nori has taken over the search for whatever kingsfoil can be found, but we need Tauriel."
"Wait here," Bard said after a moment, and ducked back inside. Bofur and Dwalin heard him murmuring softly to his children, and then he was back, a bow and quiver in his hands. "I'll go with you. I know Lake-town, and I can survey the damage while we look for her."
"You would help us?" Dwalin asked.
"Aye. I owe Tauriel a debt, even if she does not want to accept my payment. If she risked banishment once to save this dwarf of yours, I imagine she would want to do it again."
The dreams came and went like waves of a fever. Tauriel saw Kili smiling, then she saw him dying. She saw him placing the rune stone in her hand, then she saw Bolg plunging a ragged blade into him. She saw him staring at her through the bars of his cell in the Mirkwood dungeons while she spoke of starlight, and then she saw him still and broken on the plateau of Ravenhill.
Her eyes flashed open suddenly, her heart thundering. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, groaning when a dozen untreated injuries began aching anew. She dragged dirty hands over a dirty face. She could not continue on like this. The physical aches would heal with time, but she would not survive these terrible dreams night after night. Her heart ached from them, both the good images and the bad. How was she supposed to get them out of her head, and how would she survive if she did? The thought of forgetting Kili hurt just as badly as remembering him did.
She braced a hand against the wall and stood. It was still dark, the night not yet spent. She did not know how long she had slept, but knew that no more sleep would be coming. She stepped out onto the walkway again to stretch sore muscles. She would start moving immediately. Perhaps distance was the answer. The further she traveled, the further away the pain would be. She would head north, skirting along the edges of Mirkwood, then go west past Ered Mithrin and over the Misty Mountains. She could settle in the forests surrounding Ered Luin; she supposed that most of the dwarves living there would probably return to Erebor once news reached them that it had been reclaimed.
Or if not, there was Eryn Vorn to the south, which was rumored to be mostly abandoned. And if that did not work, she would find somewhere else. All she knew for certain was that she could not stay here. The memories were too painful. So she would scrub the dirt from her skin, treat her wounds, and leave this place.
She turned to go back inside and froze. There was a noise in the air, footsteps climbing the stairs on the other side of the house. She reached for the dagger still sheathed at her hip. She had retrieved it from a dead Orc's chest on her way back down Ravenhill yesterday. Now, she clutched it in her hand and edged toward the door. Who else would be here in the middle of the night except for scavengers? Well, they had chosen the wrong house to loot, she thought, her blood beginning to thrum in her veins.
She peeked around the doorway and saw a tall figure enter the house. She tightened her grip on her blade. The man stepped in, then paused when he noticed the bowl of water and pile of rags she had left on the table. He turned to look toward her, and she saw that he had a bow in his hand. She acted before he could raise it. She whirled into the doorway and sprang toward him, leading with her dagger. He dropped his bow and reached out, clasping a hand around her wrist and blocking her swipe.
In a move faster than he could anticipate, she spun around and flipped him onto his back, straddling him and pressing the tip of her blade against his throat.
"Stop, I mean you no harm," he said, holding his hands out for her to see. She paused. She had heard that voice before, and recently. She leaned back, and the moonlight filtering in through the ruined roof revealed none other than Bard.
She scrambled back and dropped the dagger to her side. "I was not expecting anyone," she said. "I intended to be gone long before anyone returned here."
Bard rubbed a hand across his throat, surprised and relieved that she had not broken the skin with her blade. "I'll be staying in Dale with my children for the winter," he said. "You are welcome here for as long as you need."
"I'll be leaving immediately," she answered. "I only—"
Before she could say another word, she heard boots thundering up the stairs outside. She whirled into a battle stance and drew her blade. Two shorter figures barreled in, one wielding an axe, the other a short sword. Tauriel lunged forward, but Bard stepped in front of her and halted her momentum. "Everybody calm down. There is no threat here."
"Looks like a threat to me," the axe-wielder said.
"You are mistaken," Bard replied, holding his hands out in a plea for Tauriel to stay her attack. He stepped across the room and lit a pair of lamps. The room filled with warm light, and Tauriel saw that the two attackers were in fact dwarves, one of whom she recognized. He had been here in this room with Kili and the others, and he had been at Ravenhill.
It was this one who dropped his weapon first. "Lady Tauriel, we have been looking for you all night. I am Bofur, and this is Dwalin."
"I am nobody's lady. What do you want?"
"We need your help," he said earnestly, pleadingly. "Please, we must hurry."
"I have no help to give," she said tiredly, sheathing her dagger. "You will have to look elsewhere." She turned away from him and grabbed a few of the cloth strips she had intended to use to cleanse her wounds. She stuffed them into the pouch that had once held Kili's rune stone. She had to get out of here. She could not stand the sight of the dwarves, of Kili's kin.
"Wait, wait!" Bofur said when she pushed past them and through the doorway. "You can't leave. Kili needs your help!"
Tauriel froze, her foot poised over the first step of the rickety staircase. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, she turned back toward the door. "What did you say?"
"Kili needs your help," Bofur repeated.
"Kili is dead," she said, and thought she might shatter at having to say the words aloud. Tears welled, and she shoved them ruthlessly back. "I don't know what kind of cruel trickery you think to play here, but I will not be a part of it. I was there!" she cried, her voice rising dangerously. "I was there at Ravenhill. I saw that bastard Bolg plunge a blade into him. I knelt beside him, and he was dead. I was there." She finished quietly, near a whisper, and fat tears that would not be stopped dripped down her cheeks.
The room was silent, the three men made momentarily speechless by Tauriel's fresh anger and grief. It was Dwalin who was the most surprised. He had not truly believed what he'd been told. He had believed that Thorin's insistence that they find her came from grief and fever from his own wounds. But now, watching the elf woman angrily dash away tears, he began to believe. He didn't like it, the thought of elves and dwarves together, but if it would save Fili and Kili, and by extension Thorin, he would see her back to Erebor.
"You can take your lies and leave me be," Tauriel said. "I want no part of them."
"We do not lie!" Bofur insisted, rushing to keep up with her as she hurried down the stairs. "They live! Kili and Fili both. But they hover near death, and Oin cannot save them alone. Tauriel, we need you. Kili needs you."
"If it's gold you want," Dwalin said from the top of the stairs, "then name your price and Thorin will see that you have it."
"I don't want your gold," she spat. "I want to be left alone."
"I swear to you we tell the truth," Bofur said again. "Please, Tauriel, you have to come with us. Kili will not survive without your help."
Tauriel stood still, frozen with doubt and with a longing so intense her knees began to shake. She wanted, with everything she had, to believe it was true. But she had been there at Ravenhill. She had lain with her head on his chest and had not felt him take a breath. And her hope for the long future had died with him.
She drew a dagger suddenly and pushed Bofur back against the wall, leveling the blade against his throat. "If you are lying to me," she growled, "if this is some kind of trick or trap, I will see your life ended, even if it means the end of mine."
"There is no trick, there is no trap," Bofur said, carefully sliding to the side and away from the tip of her blade. He had always believed that elves were dangerous, but had also believed that they were cold, emotionless and without compassion. Now he knew differently. There was a wealth of danger in Tauriel, but there was more emotion swirling in her than he could have imagined.
"We'll go now," Tauriel said, striding toward the nearby dock where she had left the rowboat she had taken from Dale. "If what you say is true, then there is no time to waste."
In a haze of fear and hope, Tauriel climbed into the boat. She looked up and saw Bard standing in his doorway while Bofur and Dwalin climbed in behind her. She held his gaze for a moment, then turned to grab an oar. For the second time, she forced herself to control her panic as she left the ruins of Lake-town. She heard nothing the dwarves might have said to her as they rowed out onto the lake. She heard only the three words that kept repeating in her head, over and over again.
Kili is alive.