Deep in the mines of Moria, as Gimli wept over his cousin Balin's death, Legolas could recall the old dwarf, white-bearded and seemingly the wisest of the whole of Thorin Oakenshield's company. Legolas had had little love for dwarves at that age, but even he could respect the old dwarf, no matter how grudgingly; how it was he that held the company together, the one who counselled them and thought things through before acting rashly, unlike Thorin himself.
Thorin's rash and reckless nature, passed onto his younger nephew, that dark-haired dwarf who had stared at Tauriel so admiringly. Whose death Tauriel had still not recovered from, never mind that they had encountered death in battle so many times before, never mind that she had known him for but a short while.
Tauriel had proven that there did not need to be enmity between elves and dwarves, and though Gimli, son of Gloin, was nothing but antagonistic towards Legolas at the beginning of their quest, the prince of the Woodland Realm would not forget that there had once been friendship between elves and dwarves, and that there could be again.
Even if it had been more than friendship, with Tauriel and the dark-haired nephew of Thorin Oakenshield.
When they began their search for Merry and Pippin, chasing down the Uruk-hai, Legolas was reminded of another time, another place, another prey; of sixty years ago, hunting down the Orcs with Tauriel, following them to Laketown, following them to where the dwarves had taken refuge.
To where Kili, nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, had lain in the house in Laketown, dying from poison.
To where Tauriel had reached the reason for her journey.
It had been then, standing in the doorway, waiting for her to follow him, that Legolas had realised exactly why Tauriel had left the Woodland Realm.
Not merely to hunt down the Orcs, to rid the evil that had begun to take over their realm.
No.
It had been to save that dark-haired dwarf, tall and young and reckless, who had thrown himself into danger's path to ensure the company's escape, who had been pierced with the poisoned arrow.
He had seen the look in her eyes, had seen the anguish on her face when she glanced from her Prince to the dwarf writhing on the bed.
That whole hunt from Mirkwood to Laketown, it had never truly been about ridding their world of the evil overtaking them. It had always been on her mind, he had known. She had always wanted to do something, to kill the evil at its source, and yet had followed Thranduil's commands and had never done so.
It had taken the poisoning of that dark-haired dwarf to finally cause her to set out, to go against his father's commands.
And he had not realised it, had not realised the hold the dark-haired dwarf had over her, not until he had stood in the doorway and called her name and saw her stand still, caught between following him on the hunt for the Orcs and to stay and save the dwarf from the poison flowing through his veins.
And it was in that moment that Legolas knew he truly loved her.
How could he make her follow him when her heart and mind so clearly belonged elsewhere?
When he knew she would never forgive herself, would never be at peace, if she left the dark dwarf as he was?
And so he had turned and left, leaving the decision to her – to whether she would choose to stay and heal the dwarf, or to follow him.
It was not a moment later that he'd had to force down the pain and the ache that overcame him, had to force it down and keep his mind on the task at hand, when he realised that she had stayed.
"Who is she?"
Legolas had heard Eowyn approach from behind him, had heard her as she tread lightly through the rest of the people of Rohan to walk alongside him, leading her horse. For a moment he wondered where Gimli was, for it was clear that the dwarf admired the strong shield-maiden greatly; but then he pushed the thought aside, and instead turned his focus to her question.
"The woman that you're thinking of," Eowyn clarified, as if unsure whether Legolas had understood her.
"What would make you think that there is a woman on my mind, my lady?"
He looked straight ahead, the thought of Tauriel in his mind; Tauriel, who would have despised King Theoden for fleeing instead of fighting, never mind that the King believed it to be the best decision to spare his people as much pain and suffering as possible. Tauriel, who would have flitted through the long train of people, who would have scouted ahead and would have made him smile, who would have sparred with him and who would have sat up to watch the stars in the night sky, who would have made this journey so much shorter.
"I have seen that look on your face, many times before, on many men," said Eowyn. "It is the look of one thinking of their loved ones, thinking of whom it is that makes them whole."
He saw her head turn briefly, turn to where Aragorn was riding with King Theoden, and felt a pain in his heart, knowing that the young woman next to him did not know of Arwen.
He had not the heart to tell her.
"If my question offends, you need not answer." Eowyn sounded slightly worried.
"No, my lady. I have taken no offence." He turned his head then, turned and smiled at her. "There is indeed someone whom I love, and it was her I was thinking of."
"What is she like?"
"Strong," said Legolas, softly, "strong, and brave, and true, and beautiful. She will never hesitate to do what she believes is right, and she is fierce and bold and courageous, and yet she is delicate and gentle, able to see the danger and beauty in everything."
"She is a lucky woman indeed, to be so loved by someone."
"She is everything to me."
"And you, my lord, are lucky indeed if you have found such a woman in your life."
He had to close his eyes briefly, shut them and open them again.
"If only it were so." He did not know why he was continuing to speak; he could merely smile and nod, let her believe that Tauriel loved him as he loved her. And yet something was making him speak; maybe it was because his feelings had been bottled up for so long, maybe it was because of the way that she looked at Aragorn when the heir of Isildur was already in love with someone else, he knew not – he knew only that he had to continue speaking. "Her heart still mourns for another who loved her just as true, and who was slain in battle years ago. She suspects little of my feelings toward her."
There was silence as Eowyn registered his words.
Almost at once, the young woman felt horrified.
To love someone so deeply and for them not to return that love – she could imagine nothing more painful.
The thought of Aragorn flashed into her mind; but Eowyn pushed it away, forcing herself to think of the elf walking alongside her, the pain evident in his clear eyes.
"I am sorry, my lord," she said, finally, quietly. "I did not mean to bring up such painful thoughts."
Legolas shook his head.
"It is my hope that she will heal," he told her. "I have seen the love she bore for the slain warrior, and have seen it to be real and true, and I know that he loved her in return. I do wish for her to love me, that is true; yet if she could but mend her heart and heal, then that is enough."
What was he doing? To spill his innermost secrets to a young woman he knew only briefly? Even Aragorn knew not the extent of his love for Tauriel; Aragorn, whom Legolas loved as a brother, whom he would trust with his life.
"To love someone so deeply, my lord, even if one does not receive the same love in return, is a sign of strength," said Eowyn.
Legolas only smiled at her.
"It is my belief, my lord, that one day, her heart will heal, and she will learn that she is able to love once more."
"Then I shall die as one of them!"
It was, admittedly, not something that Tauriel would have said. She would have fought to live; she would not accept death. Even when the battle seemed hopeless, she would not even consider death as a possibility.
And yet, it reminded Legolas so strongly of her, of how she would fight, and keep fighting, and would not give up hope nor falter in her strength and belief that there was something worth fighting for. Not even when the odds were against them, when they had little chance of winning.
No.
She would press on.
She would not have given up nor despaired.
And Aragorn – Aragorn, whom he trusted with his life. Aragorn would not lead them astray.
Tauriel would have been horrified at the lack of faith he had in his friend.
He found him in the armoury, pulling on his armour, and before he could reach for his sword, Legolas took it and passed it to him.
Aragorn looked up at him.
"We have trusted you this far. You have not led us astray." Legolas looked into his eyes. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."
Yes, he thought. He had been wrong to despair. What would Tauriel have said if she had known? Even if he had not been able to fulfil his promise to return, she would have understood; she would have accepted that he had died defending the people of Rohan, that he had fought and kept fighting to his last breath.
She would not have mourned so deeply for him, not like how she had mourned for Kili, nephew of Thorin.
Legolas pushed the thought out of his mind.
"Ú-moe edhored, Legolas." There is nothing to forgive.
And they clapped one another on the shoulders, and smiled at each other.
"If we had more time, I'd get this adjusted," a gruff voice said then, and both turned around to see Gimli struggling towards them, holding up his chainmail. He glanced up briefly at them, and then released the silvery material; and Legolas had to hold back a laugh as the chainmail fell right to the floor.
Gimli glanced up at them again.
"It's a little tight across the chest."
Dwarves, Legolas thought, were far from bad company, able to bring humour into the most hopeless situations.
He had to fight back a smile.
And then a horn sounded, loud and long and low.
He glanced up, sharply.
"That is no Orc horn."
"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." Even running out of the armoury, Legolas could hear Haldir's voice, clear and loud. "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together." Haldir glanced up as Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli appeared, running down the steps, and the elf smiled.
"We come to honour that agreement."
Haldir looked surprised as Aragorn flung his arms around him, hugging him tightly, before pulling back.
"You are most welcome."
Legolas clasped him on the shoulder, and Haldir did the same.
"We are proud to fight alongside men once more," Haldir called out, turning to face Theoden; and then he turned again, briefly, to look at Legolas, and said, in a low voice, "There is someone here who wishes to speak with you."
And Legolas looked up sharply as a figure moved out of the ranks, and lowered her hood to reveal a familiar face with long, fiery red hair.
"It is a long journey, from Rivendell to Lorien."
Tauriel glanced at Haldir, who stood next to her, watching the rest of the army of elves set up camp for the night, quickly, quietly, efficiently.
"Indeed it is," she said.
"A long journey indeed, to remind us of the alliance between elves and men, when Elrond could have merely communicated with the Lady Galadriel."
"I wished to come, and to fight as well."
"So I see." Haldir looked at her, briefly, before turning away. "I have heard much of you, Tauriel of the Woodland Realm."
"Oh?"
"Indeed." He nodded. "There are few who have heard of the story of Thorin Oakenshield's company as they passed through the Woodland Realm, and I am one of them."
"What have you heard of a mere Captain of the Guard, I wonder?"
"Enough to know that your time in Rivendell has served you greatly." Haldir smiled at her, inclined his head, and moved away.
Tauriel remained, standing still.
Your time in Rivendell has served you greatly.
Yes, she thought. Her time in Rivendell had indeed served her well.
The peace of mind she had encountered in her stay there had not left her as she journeyed from Rivendell to Lorien, and from Lorien to Helm's Deep.
She could still feel the ache in her heart, the pain and longing that Kili's death had brought, the ache she had never been able to recover from.
And yet, now, she could feel it fading, ever so slightly; still there, but an echo of what it once was.
It scared her.
Would she forget Kili completely, if this pain left her? Would she forget the way he had looked at her, the way he had spoken to her in his state of sickness, the way he had smiled at her?
She closed her eyes, thought of her last night in Rivendell, the night before she had left for Lorien on Elrond's errand.
"You have changed much in your time here in Rivendell, Tauriel."
"My lord Elrond." She nodded to him, ceased her packing for a moment. "I feel better – better than I have had for years."
"For what would seem like an age, no doubt."
"That is so."
"I hope you will keep in mind what I told you, all those weeks ago." Elrond looked up at her, met her eyes. "It is always possible to open your heart to another; it does not mean that you are forgetting the old. It merely means you have the strength and the capacity to love again."
"I have not forgotten."
She felt a pang in her heart as she thought of Legolas; Legolas, who had always been there for her, who had remained by her side in the past sixty years, even as she had turned into a shadow of what she once was, even as she carried the pain of Kili's death in her heart, even as she had turned cold and aloof. She remembered her talk with Thranduil, all those years ago, the talk that had come so coincidentally with the arrival of Thorin Oakenshield's company and his dark-haired nephew; of how her King had made her remember that she was a lowly Silvan elf, one whom he could never let his son pledge himself to.
"Do not live in the past, Tauriel."
Elrond had smiled at her, one last time, before retreating to the doorway.
"Learn to love again."
The day before they were due to reach Helm's Deep, Haldir had spoken to Tauriel once more.
"I believe you would wish to speak with Legolas."
She turned her head sharply at that. "What?"
Haldir raised his eyebrows. "As he is your prince, I assumed you would wish to speak with him when we have reached."
"Oh." Tauriel turned away again, lowered her head.
Legolas, who had never wavered from her side.
Who had only ever wanted her to heal.
Who had let her grieve for Kili, and had never once let her know of his feelings for her.
Who had never asked her to love him.
"Yes," she said. "I would wish to speak with him."