Peering over the rocks that shielded them from view, they had decided to wait for the cover of night before venturing further.
"It is a foul place, Tauriel," Legolas told her, "In another age, our people waged war on those ancient lands…"
And as he turned away, looking at the ground and seemingly seeing some ancient memory, she caught a glimpse of pain in his cerulean blue eyes. He hesitated, glancing back at her before admitting, "My mother died there."
She gazed at him, feeling his pain as he added, "My father does not speak of it... There is no grave… No memory…"
"Nothing."
And it took her all her willpower not to weep for him.
Friends had begun to notice a slight difference in the way Legolas had regarded Tauriel. It was not so much the lovestruck gaze in Arandur's eyes as it followed Gwedhiel, but more to do with the way his gaze flitted to her when she was near, before quickly finding their way back to whomever he was speaking to.
Tauriel, herself, had seemed utterly unaware of any change in the prince's demeanor. Certainly, if asked, she would have laughed it off, citing the prince's interest in another elleth, who was said to have been receiving flowers from the prince in the recent months.
Moreover, she had seen less of the prince recently, both of them having been busy with their individual duties, and Tauriel suspected that Legolas was additionally busy with the courting of another elleth.
That elleth, as it so happened, was Arandur's sister, Araniel. With her silver tresses and hazel eyes, soft spoken demeanor and easy charm, she was the opposite of Tauriel and very much sought after. She was also a friend that Tauriel cherished.
So when Gwedhiel had teased her about Legolas within Araniel's hearing, Tauriel had vehemently shot that down, adding that she saw him as the prince, and a friend, but nothing more. Never more.
Araniel had shot her a glance and offered her a small smile before hurrying off to the healer's where she spent most of her time helping out wherever needed.
Unbeknownst to Tauriel, her conversation with Gwedhiel had been overhead by the King, whose brows had furrowed into a thoughtful scowl, as it tended to. His eyes followed Tauriel as she hurried off to train her troops, before striding towards the window where his eyes sought out his son.
That night, as she settled to sleep, tears escaped from Tauriel's lidded eyes, much to her own confusion.