I decided that Gandalf's fall would be slightly repetitive if you've watched/read the Lord of the Rings, and I decided to move on for length and time purposes.

Ray Nicole- Am I including too much bad stuff? You commented in the review that they have been through too much. Thanks in advance.

We stumbled out onto the side of the mountain, the door to the Mines swinging shut behind us. Everyone was shell-shocked. It was even worse for me. I had just killed Tauriel's horse, Elen Dome, and I knew that if she ever returned, she would have a hard time finding it in her heart to forgive me. Gandalf had also fallen in the Mines. The hobbits seemed the most vulnerable at this point- Frodo seemed on the verge of collapse and the others were not far off. I stood looking out over the landscape and suddenly, I recalled something that had happened long ago, when Tauriel and I were only children.

"Why are you so sad, Legolas?" The young redheaded elf asked. We were practicing archery together in the fields underneath the trees in Mirkwood. She was much better at it than I was, even though most didn't give her credit for her supreme accuracy.

"My father has just said that my horse is unfit for our match now. He says he is going to kill it." I replied. Tauriel set down her bow and cocked her head at me. Her eyes were wide and sad looking, seemingly mirroring my own.

"Why?" she inquired. "Your horse is a beautiful one. He is very intelligent, just like you. He has a fine spirit." I swallowed. My heart seemed heavy and at first I had a hard time thinking about why my father had ordered Syren to be killed.

"He says that he is tainted by bad blood." I replied. Tauriel's eyes flashed with anger.

"Syren has fine markings and he has no bad blood. His father is a noble stallion and his mother is a gentle mare. Syren has never done anything bad to you, ever!" she protested. "I do not understand, Legolas, why your father has such prejudices against blood relations. There could be an evil man and a kind daughter."

"Blood carries personalities that are not suitable." I said, echoing my father's belief. "When Merwen betrayed Mirkwood long ago, his wife bore him a son in his absence. Naer later betrayed the kingdom just like his father did. Anyone that Naer's family will bear are traitors to the core."

"You aren't justified in saying that, your highness." Tauriel responded coldly. "My grandfather was Naer's son. I am Naer's great-granddaughter, and I will NEVER betray my people like them. I am nothing like Merwen or Naer, and you let blood speak for all who come after. I believed better of you."

"Tauriel, I'm sorry!" I said. I had not know that Tauriel was a Sylvan elf before that. Father never told me that my companion was a Sylvan elf, dangerous, cunning, and quick-witted.

"If my horse is ever killed because of anything but honor and sacrifice, I will kill whoever did it myself." Tauriel spat. "I'm sorry about your horse.'

Afterward, I had found a dark black horse, as dark as midnight, in the stable with what looked a lot like the braid Tauriel put in her hair weaved into its mane. Syren was gone, but in its place was Mori Val, and I had been certain that a Sylvan elf had just given me a gift that my father wouldn't even have done.

I remembered that day clearly. I had insulted Tauriel's lineage, but in turn, she had gifted me with my own bonded horse after Syren died. And 260 years later, I had repaid her by killing her horse with the intent of saving someone. After recalling that memory, I knew that Tauriel had high expectations, but if she knew that her horse had died for the sake of a young hobbit, she would forgive me. And I would give her a new horse.

I still felt as though my heart was sliced open when we arrived in the Lady Galadriel's elven home. It was a very nice place, and it somewhat reminded me of Mirkwood. Lorien was much more graceful, though. Mirkwood seemed more aggressive, even though I considered it my home. I hadn't been back there in years. The last time was when I was chasing after Tauriel after she left. My father had ordered the doors closed, but I had left because Tauriel had left.

"You mourn for something." Galadriel said, speaking inside my mind. "Something very precious to you, more than any amount of treasure. A jewel beyond all others. Its glow is buried beneath the hurt and the anger, much like a piece of gold is buried under gray rock."

"Yes." I replied in my mind. Galadriel had put to words what I could not. Tauriel was very precious to me. I would rather have her back than own the Arkenstone. "Do you know where they have taken her, my lady?"

"She is in a place you have seen, but never entered. A place you have heard of, but never listened to. A place you have felt, but never touched." Galadriel replied. A riddle. Sometimes I wished that my people could speak plainer.

"Thank you." I said instead of protesting. Anything would help my heart now. I had no way of knowing if Tauriel had died. No way of knowing if she had been too hurt to carry on much longer. I had no idea at all. It was now cloaked in mystery. She was gone from my sight, lingering just out of reach.

Galadriel seemed to speak to the others, and then we were led to a soft forest clearing to sleep. I donned a white robe and took a bath in the hot springs. The warm water relaxed my muscles and I almost felt at peace. But there was always darkness lurking in my mind. The thought of Tauriel was forever in the shadows. I could not relax completely until she was in my arms again, until I could smell her vanilla hair once more.

I did not sleep that night. I roamed the safe forests of Lorien instead. I breathed in the silence like it was a smell. It was intoxicating. There was no movement of any kind, just complete silence, rushing over me like a wave. It was hard to describe. I had always told Tauriel that my favorite smell was the night. She, in response, had said that her favorite smell was the damp earth after it rained.

If it was raining, the wetness on my cheek could have been a raindrop.

AN: Sorry about the delay! I have a question for whoever knows the answer. Do elves eat food?

Whoever answers my question will be able to submit a name that they wish to be included in the story for the next chapter.

The title of this chapter comes from the lyric from the Phantom of the Opera by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Thanks to him for the genius music.