So, I got some anonymous hate on my tumblr account because of this story. All I have to say in response is

1) don't read this if you don't ship kiliel. You'll just make yourself mad

2) Even though I have read and adore the books, this is based on the movies. Therefore things are a bit different. Please don't refer to me as "Tolkien hater."

3) this is fanfiction for a reason. Obviously it isn't completely in line with the books/movies.

Thanks for all the support for the prologue! I hope you all enjoy :)

The translations for the elven phrases are on the bottom

Tauriel ground the dried herbs with steady hands, occasionally shooting glances to the healer across the room. Caelbes was a kind, gentle elf. Tauriel, now no longer allowed to protect the forest of Mirkwood, decided perusing her skills in healing seemed appropriate and had been studying under the experienced elf for several weeks now.

It had been nearly a week since Legolas confronted her. Although nothing had changed between the two, Tauriel was growing more and more worried with each passing day. Her symptoms of a painful stomach and aches were increasing, occasionally making her drop whatever task she was doing. The exhaustion was worse as well. Tauriel often found herself winded, pausing behind pillars or leaning against closed doors to catch her breath.

And, for obvious reasons, this was not a topic one could be too boisterous about without raising suspicions. Therefore, she suffered in silence.

"Caelbes?" Tauriel did her best to seem merely curious.

"Yes, my dear?" The older elf's high pitched voice answered politely, turning to watch her red-haired student.

"I know how to heal wounds," Tauriel began, watching her dried herbs intently. "But are there any remedies I should know for if someone becomes sick?"

"Sick?" Caelbes repeated. If Tauriel had turned to face her, she was sure she'd see the elf's eyebrows furrowed intently. "Do you mean to heal ill men?"

"Not exactly." The herbs were a thin powder now, but Tauriel kept slowly grinding. "I mean if one of our own feels unwell. Is there any remedy for that?"

Caelbes chuckled lightly. "Young child, we do not succumb to mortal diseases. You should know that."

"Yes," Tauriel agreed. "Hodoer, does that mean we never experience pain, except given by a mortal wounds?"

She did not answer right away. The older elf came next to Tauriel, who still stared at the bowl. "Why the sudden interest, if I may ask?"

Tauriel gave a light shrug. "No longer allowed to be a warrior, I wish to focus solely on healing now. To do so, I need all the facts, don't I?" It was not a complete lie.

For a moment, she was worried Caelbes would not answer. Then, the elf gave another soft laugh and folded her hands as she spoke. "You are still very young, Tauriel; just a child in this world. You've yet to see the life circle of an elf. One day, someone you know will fade and you will see what a tragic, painful ordeal it is. When the light from an elf's life leaves, their soul is quick to follow."

Her stomach rolled nervously and Tauriel had the sudden urge to vomit. She pushed it away. "That's the only time, though? An elf only feels pain when they fade?" Fear rocked through her veins. If what Caelbes said was true, then Tauriel truly was fading.

"That and mortal wounds." Caelbes smiled affectionately. "And obviously pregnancy."

Tauriel felt as though a boulder slammed into her gut.

"You've yet to see that as well," she continued, oblivious to Tauriel's nervous, quick breaths. "Perhaps someday soon, there will be a new elfling in Mirkwood. You'd be surprised at how mortal we become."

"Mor-mortal?" Tauriel stammered. Her hands had stopped grinding and were instead frozen in place.

"Oh, yes. Carrying a child greatly weakens our bodies. Exhaustion and horrible aches reduce us to practically mortal men." Glancing down, she saw the fine powder and hastily picked up the bowl. "Ah, thank you my dear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to put this in the stores."

She must have been hiding her panic well, because Caelbes gracefully swept from the room without another glance at the young elf. As the door closed behind her, a panicked gasp burst through Tauriel's slightly parted lips and another roll of nausea coursed through her stomach. Her mouth was painfully dry, opening and closing with no words.

Pregnancy?

A whirlwind of memories floored through her mind. Suddenly, the old ruins they had been perched against were crystal clear. Tauriel could feel the old stone under her fingertips. She saw the moonlight, bouncing off her pale hands as they caressed the scruff on his jaw. His desperate plea echoed in her ears, pulling painfully at the strings in her chest.

Her eyes burned and her cheeks flushed as she remembered the heat of Kili pressed against her, the deep noises that came from the back of his throat. It had been wrong; so painfully, deliciously wrong that neither thought of the consequences of that moment.

"No," she whispered harshly. Shaking, trembling fingers lightly touch above her waist, skimming the outside of her dress. "This is not possible."

However, even she knew, the words were a lie.

Tauriel's boots echoed loudly in the wide halls.

She wasn't sure how much time she spent in the healer's chamber, desperately trying to clear her mind and process the situation. Although she was still in slight disbelief, Tauriel had hurried from the room as soon as she was certain she could give the pretense that everything was normal.

Keeping away from the throne room, her eyes searched wildly for her friend. Her original plan of waiting things out, perhaps making small trip to Erebor in the future, flew out the window with the knowledge she was carrying life. The urgency had changed. Time was ticking now. Her new strategy required all the help Legolas would be willing to give her.

Passing the front gate, Tauriel paused before addressing the guardsmen. "Has Lord Legolas gone into the forest?"

One of the guardsmen nodded. "Yes. He left with the guard earlier this morning to hunt a pack of orcs."

"Orcs?" Tauriel questioned, momentarily distracted. "What are orcs doing in Mirkwood?"

Unfortunately, the guardsmen knew no more on the subject and Tauriel hurried away. For a moment, she craved to fetch her bow and join the hunt, but her punishment loomed over her. With Legolas gone, she would not be able to execute the first part of her plan, so instead Tauriel went to her sleeping chambers.

Nerves racked her body, threatening to unsettle her mind once again, but she didn't let herself dwell on them. Tauriel busied herself, hastily throwing together her duel daggers, bow, and quiver. Fetching her travelling cloak as well, Tauriel gave the room, the place she'd lived the past six hundred years, a small glance before leaving, slamming the door behind her.

Restlessly completing her tasks seemed to be a good thing. The more she rushed herself, the less she thought of the issue at hand. She was lucky that everyone seemed to be busy with various hobbies and chores. Tauriel saw no one as she descended into the lowest levels of the kingdom, arriving in the stables.

Erebor was not a far journey, especially if she rode on horseback. Tauriel knew she needed speed. She had to reach the mountain before anyone realized she was gone. Hopefully, Legolas would be able to deter that.

Stashing away her items, Tauriel saddled one of the many horses, a beautiful Buckskin animal that she'd never ridden before.

"Saesa omentien lle," she whispered, running a hand along the thick mane. "You'll have to forgive me, new friend. I am not too familiar with your kind."

Tauriel knew elves who had sacred bonds with their animals, even spoke to them, but she had yet to make such a connection. Horses were not practical when it came to venturing through the web-invested forest of Mirkwood.

Suddenly, from several levels above her, there was the faint sound of a horn. She was well familiar with the noise. It meant the guard had returned. Securing the horse in its stall, she gave it a compassionate smile.

"Esta sinome mellon. Soon, we will have to ride fast."

Making sure her weapons and cloak were well hidden in the stall, in case anyone should come down before she returned, Tauriel ascended to the main level, keeping her keen eyes open for Legolas. Of course, she knew he'd be with his father, but she had been desperately hoping to catch him elsewhere.

When it became apparent Legolas was nowhere but the obvious place, Tauriel begrudgingly approached Thranduil's throne room, striding up the long, winding steps. Standing tall and projecting confidence, she passed the guards and froze, realizing she'd come at the wrong moment.

Legolas was indeed with his father, but standing in front of the throne in deep discussion. While his son was obviously bothered by something, Thranduil seemed quite impassive to the conversation.

"Ah, Tauriel," Thranduil said calmly, waving a hand in greeting. Legolas turned and watched as she stood by his side. "Legolas and the guard have just returned from taking down an orc pack. Its shame you could not have joined them."

"My Lord," she greeted stiffly, ignoring the jab at her expense. "I did not mean to interrupt your discussion."

"There is no discussion." The words were directed to his son, who narrowed his eyes at the comment. "We are finished here."

"Father," Legolas brandished a torn piece of cloth, or perhaps it was a type of paper, in front of Thranduil. Tauriel could not tell. "We need to find someone who has the ability to read this. I am sure there are more packs out there. This could lead us-."

"If the orcs are not here," Thranduil drawled, "then they are no concern to us. There are few in Middle Earth that have the ability read Black Speech, son. I will not waste resources sending our people searching for that old wizard, just because you found a piece of writing in the possession of orcs."

"The symbol of Durin is no coincidence." Tauriel, who had been debating on whether or not to stay, snapped to attention at Legolas' words. "Do we not warn the dwarves?"

"No. Our concern is our own people. Dispose of the parchment now, my son." Thranduil then looked to Tauriel, eyes hard and unmoving. She was being dismissed as well.

Turning on their heels, the pair left the watchful eye of their king. Tauriel caught Legolas' eye and silently led him to a near deserted hallway. The afternoon sun was growing low and Tauriel inwardly cursed. She wanted to leave before nightfall.

"You found that parchment with orcs?" she questioned. "With the sign of Durin?"

"Yes." Legolas handed her the cloth to examine herself. The fabric was rough, but thin. Strange black markings covered it, but there was no mistaking the small symbol that represented the line of Durin. "There are more packs out there, but they left our lands before we caught up to them."

Tauriel's chest grew hot. Out of their lands, but free to pillage and destroy other regions, but she would not start that argument again. "Do you plan to destroy it as your father said?"

Legolas eyed her carefully. "Tauriel, we cannot go to Erebor. It is against the king's orders."

"We will not be going," she agreed, turning and beginning to descent back to stables. Legolas was quickly behind her. "I will take it. We do not know what this is. It could be orders to murder them in their beds for all we know. Its need to be read immediately."

"Tauriel!" She did not slow down. "Even if you do take it to Erebor, you will still need someone who can read it. I doubt Thorin Oakenshield is familiar with Black Speech."

"Your father spoke of the wizard. Unless my memory has started to fail me, he had plans of returning the Halfling back East. Have you heard any word of their journey?"

"No," Legolas admitted. They were in stables now. He watched, in slight disbelief, as she revealed the already-saddled horse. "You were leaving before you knew about the parchment."

Tauriel ignored his last comment, guilt slowly blossoming over her chest. "Then the wizard still remains in Erebor. They need to know what it is coming for them. Mellon, I have a favor to ask of you."

"You will not be accepted," Legolas said slowly, watching her with firm eyes. As she had done to him, he ignored her last statement. "What you want, it is not possible Tauriel. There is no future for you there."

"If that is the case," she began quietly, "then I need to find out for myself. I cannot stay confined here forever."

She had the momentarily fear that Legolas would not to allow her to go. He didn't understand the undying need she felt for the young dwarf, nor was he aware of the life inside her. Mirkwood would always hold a place for Legolas, but for Tauriel, it had run out of space. She did not belong there anymore.

"I cannot hold off my father indefinitely." Tauriel breathed a sigh of relief and slung herself onto the back of the horse. Almost as if he sensed her high energy, he pulled on the reins directing himself to the door leading outside. "He will not be pleased you disobeyed him again."

"I will deal with his wrath when the time comes," she proclaimed, gathering the reins. "Deceive him, Legolas. Do not let yourself get into trouble for my actions."

"Mellon." His tone of voice started her. It was too soft, too compassionate. Tauriel steadied her horse, waiting for him to continue. "This will not end well. It will fail."

Tauriel wanted to say more to her lifelong friend. It was wrong to leave him on such hard terms, but he would never understand. She was tired of trying.

"We will see about that." With those as her final words, she gave the animal a rough kick and without a last glance, rode into the darkening forest.

For the first part of her journey, galloping along the narrow path, weaving in and out of trees, Tauriel went through her last conversation with Legolas, wondering what she could have done differently. Dejectedly, she wondered if she'd ever see him again.

It wasn't until a couple hours later, with the sky becoming a deep gray, that Tauriel caught a glance of the large mountain through a gap in the trees. She was reminded once again of what she held and her thoughts wandered to the dwarves. Would they accept her? Would they deem her child an unnatural atrocity and cast her away?

What would Kili do?

Kili. The strings in her chest pulled at the thought of his name. There were still several hours until she would be arriving at the base of the mountain, but nothing would be able to prepare her for their reunion. Her stomach fluttered with anticipation and Tauriel thought of the child that lay there.

"Asca mellon," Tauriel said fiercely. The horse's legs pumped faster beneath her. "We must ride fast."

Unknown to her, many miles ahead in the thickets and trees, orcs waited silently in the night, eager for flesh and blood with a dark hunger.

Mellon-friend

Hodoer-Wise One

Saesa omentien lle-pleasure meeting you

Esta sinome-rest here

Asca-hurry