When Thorin Met Tauriel – 6
By the time Tauriel had climbed up the stairs from the dungeons, the King's elderly butler, Galion, had heard about her dispute with Sethiel. Fortunately, Galion had taken her side, and talked the King into sending Sethiel out on an extended patrol.
Unfortunately, it had been too late for Tauriel's reputation. Among the courtiers, rumor traveled faster than fact and was believed more readily, so Sethiel's sly hints about a relationship between the Captain of the Guard and a dwarf prisoner had already done their damage. She still commanded the respect due to her position, but as a rumored dwarf-lover she wasn't welcome in many parts of the Palace. She stayed away from her sister, to avoid causing Tuviel any trouble. It made for a boring and lonely existence.
Gritting her teeth, she pretended not to care. It didn't make any sense, anyway—she had revealed Thorin's secret in front of everyone, betraying him. How could anyone imagine her to have been...what she most certainly hadn't been. At the moment, he probably hated her. But she couldn't help thinking about him. She wanted to talk to him again. Elbereth help her, she wanted to touch him again.
It was worst at night or when she was alone. So she found extra work duties to busy herself with or else she practiced archery, sword-fighting and hand-to-hand combat until she was aching and sweaty and fell exhausted into a dreamless sleep.
Only Galion took pity on her. The old elf seemed not to notice the gossip that swirled around her—though he probably heard every bit of it—just as he ignored her prickly moods and constant sighs. She would have hugged the dear old elf, if she hadn't known that he would have been horrified by such a breach of etiquette.
A few nights after Sethiel's unwilling departure, Galion appeared as she made ready to leave the Palace. She had lingered long after her appointed time was up, unwilling to face another night with no company but her thoughts, so she was glad to see him.
She nodded to him. "Galion."
"Now, come with me," the butler said, "and we shall taste the new wine that has just come in. I shall be hard at work clearing the cellars of the empty wood, so let us have a drink first to help the labor."
She hid her smile. "Very good. I'll taste it with you, and see if it is fit for the King's table. There is a feast tonight, and it would not do to send up poor stuff."
"Poor stuff?" the butler said, insulted. "This is wine from the great gardens of Dorwinion. You'll never taste a better vintage! Not that you rough guards are cultivated enough to appreciate such a divinely heady nectar."
Tauriel laughed at that. "I'm so glad you're helping me to elevate my tastes."
Galion led the way down to the wine cellar. "It's good to hear you laugh, my dear. You haven't done so in quite a while."
She shrugged. "Nothing's been funny."
Thorin thought there was no sweeter sound than the whispered commotion made by twelve dwarves and one hobbit as they unlocked his dungeon door.
Squinting a bit in the torchlight, he smiled at the hobbit. "Gandalf spoke true, as usual. A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all forever at your service, whatever happens after this. But what comes next?"
Bilbo explained what he'd learned about the King's feast, and how the elves threw out their empty wine barrels. The dwarves would hide in the empty barrels. The elves, all unknowingly, would throw the barrels (and the dwarves) into the river through the trapdoor in the cellar. The dwarves would bob to freedom.
Thorin cut short the dwarves' noisy complaints. "You bob or you stay."
The dwarves and the hobbit crept into the cellar with the trapdoor. Empty barrels were stacked against the stone walls and the air was heavy with the fruity scent of wine. A light shone in from an adjoining room and as Bilbo coaxed the dwarves into the barrels, Thorin looked inside.
A big wine flagon stood on the heavy table, and two empty cups lay on the floor. Puddles of wine marked the floor near the fallen cups, and a few small splashes spread around the two figures slumped over the table.
One was an old elf dressed as a butler, his thinning gray hair touseled into a halo around his head. He snored gently, a smile on his aging face. Across from him, her head pillowed on her folded arms and her dark hair spread over her face like a cloak, slept Tauriel.
Unthinkingly, Thorin stepped to her side and brushed the hair away from her face. She looked so vulnerable in sleep, her eyelids gently closed over those sparkling, inquisitive eyes and her full lips relaxed and slightly parted. His heart ached.
He drew in a deep breath, swallowing the unexpected tenderness that threatened him. Touching her had been a mistake. At the very least, he risked waking her—she would have to sound the alarm and stop their escape. She had betrayed him once already. Of course she would do it again; it was her duty. But instead of feeling righteous anger, he wanted to wake her, tell her goodbye, say he was sorry for everything. He wanted her to hold him and tell him not to go.
Behind him, Bilbo whispered, "Should we keep the Captain of the Guard's keys?"
"No," Balin whispered back. "She isn't bad, for an elf. She was quite decent to us prisoners."
Bilbo came forward and hung the ring of keys back on her belt. "Very well. That will save her some of the trouble she is in for," the hobbit said. "It will puzzle them all, too. They will think we had a very strong magic to pass through all these locked doors and disappear."
Thorin knew it was time to leave, but still he lingered, watching her for any sign of waking. Had she heard them in her sleep? Had she felt his touch? He wondered if, in the morning, she would remember him standing beside her and think it had been a dream.
Bilbo flapped his hands at him."Disappear!" the hobbit said firmly. "We have to get busy very quick, if that is to happen."
Thorin stooped, bringing his lips close to Tauriel's ear. He hesitated, not knowing what to say.
"Goodbye," he whispered, then walked out of the room.