I just wanted to thank all of you for the encouraging reviews! You're my motivation!
I think we're ready for a bit of happiness in an otherwise serious story, so here's something to (hopefully) light your day up!
"My lord, Tauriel is banished."
Her heart sank upon hearing the words of the messenger, Arandur. So, this was to be her punishment for defying her king…
"Banished?" Legolas asked sharply.
"You may tell my father. If there is no place for Tauriel, there is no place for me."
Shaken, Tauriel walked up to Legolas, urging, "Legolas, it is your King's command."
He looked at her, hurt from her earlier betrayal still shining in the depths of his eyes, and replied her, "Yes, he is my king…"
And softly, almost as if he were trying not to admit it, he added, "But he does not command my heart." He strode past her and added, this time louder, "I ride north. Will you come with me?"
He didn't look back. And this time, he didn't need to.
It took her time, but eventually, she learnt to do things her way.
Despite resistance from members of the old guard to her, sometimes, unorthodox methods, they too accepted her as their unequivocal captain after several hard-fought battles were won in huge part due to her uncanny instincts and unique strategies. She also brought with her a more personal touch than any captain had adopted before.
That was not to say that her dissenters did not exist. She simply learnt to care less about their personal biases.
She would have endless debates with Legolas, discussing strategies, plans and policies. Between her more humanitarian concerns and Legolas' clearheaded logic, they often devised better strategies than either would alone. And she gradually found herself debating any plans thoroughly with Legolas before implementation. But with debate sometimes came tension, and on that particular day, they had an unusually difficult argument that left her leaving in a huff.
She had been hurt, no… insulted, by his accusation that she was too idealistic and naïve. Tauriel had spent months drawing out the basis of a mutually beneficial way to work with mortals and dwarfs in ensuring together the security of the region from orcs and spiders that were attacking in ever increasing numbers, she had been disappointed when he had simply put it off as flippantly as he had. Too long had they tried to fight the growing evil alone, and for too long had they merely succeeded at holding it at bay.
Legolas, on the other hand, was somewhat confused with the strong reaction he got from Tauriel when he disagreed with her sentiment that they could work together with dwarves and men. There was too much history between dwarves and elves to overcome simply with mutual benefit. And the men of Laketown were simply too preoccupied with simply surviving and dealing with their own struggles. Furthermore, they had no leader of decent caliber to ensure that any agreement would be upheld with due honour. Her plan was progressive, but he feared it was simply too progressive by several hundred years.
Tauriel had been upset by his lack of willingness to try. Little did she know that behind other of her more "innovative" measures, he had exerted influence to quash unreasonable dissent and ensure their successful implementation. It was not to say that he blindly supported her.
He was upset, he realized, that Tauriel had not understood his good intentions. He did not understand the queer sensation in his chest as he thought about her anger. Why did it clench like it did? What a strange and uncomfortable feeling.
Archery practice helped reduce the sensation, so he spent the entire afternoon in the archery range.
Tauriel herself was not spared from the dull ache that came with their argument.
She had thrown herself into work, meeting her new recruits, discussing plan with various sections, and yet, the dull ache had persisted.
Eventually, she too sought out the comfort of the archery range.
The sight of Legolas practicing his perfect archery had almost ignited her fury at him when she decided, instead, to share his target. On her terms.
An arrow flew unerringly to its target, slicing the previous one in two exact halves and catching the attention of the latter's owner.
He lifted an eyebrow, and said bemusedly, "So, you would take your revenge on my poor arrow?" She lifted her eyebrow in response, and replied, "Better that than a lock of hair now, isn't it?"
And he laughed, breaking the tension that had plagued them the entire day. "I'd have you tried," he warned.
"No, you wouldn't," she smirked. "It'll be too embarrassing for you to admit you did not notice me. Male ego."
In fact, he had heard her coming. And she knew he'd let her best him, but there wasn't a need to spell it out.
Because he (she) was smiling now, and that was all that mattered.