Author's Note: So I have finally finished writing this, and I hope all of you who've stuck it out have enjoyed reading it. I didn't mean for it to get quite this long! I have lots of other ideas for new stuff to write, so it won't be my last story here. Although next time I might try something a bit shorter... :)
Tauriel rushed through the gloomy passageways with Kili and Thorin by her side – and this time, she could breathe more easily. Fili hadn't known which way to go once they'd entered the mountain, and it had been pure luck they'd taken stairs that had led straight to the forge room. She shuddered to think what would have happened if they'd taken a different route.
But none of that mattered now. Nothing was going to stop her fighting by Kili's side to smite his enemies and reclaim his kingdom, and hopefully she could prove once and for all – to all his friends and family, and everyone else with a grudge against her kind – that she was their ally.
Ignoring the pain in her ribs, she sped on. She'd taken quite a hit from Azog, and no doubt someone would need to look at it later – but for now, as long as she could keep pace and draw her weapons she was ready for anything.
The three of them hurried on past the great hall, standing deserted and empty even as the braziers in the corners blazed away. There was nobody left inside. The room was as silent as a tomb, save for the ghostly echoes of their footsteps.
She felt suddenly unnerved by the solitude and silence, and called out to her companions – wishing to break the brittle emptiness of the room and lift its oppressive gloom.
"How much further to go?"
Thorin turned to her and pointed with his sword straight ahead. "Not far. The gate lies around the next corner."
And as the three of them reached the bend at last, Tauriel began to hear the first sounds of the war raging outside. Muffled shouting and scuffling movements, mixed with the sharp smack of metal on metal – all flowing in a disjointed stream of noise from the city streets outside.
She looked anxiously over at Kili, worried that he might be more injured than he was letting on. It was hard not to notice the deep, etched wounds across Thorin's back and shoulders – although the dwarf king appeared to pay them no heed. And though she couldn't see evidence of similar harsh treatment on Kili's skin, she had no doubt he would try and hide his hurts from her the same way his uncle did.
They passed into the entrance hall – finding the gate raised high and open, with no one in attendance at the watchman's post.
Kili slowed, and stared closely at the gate mechanism. "We should set the gears in motion and shut the gate. We don't want any orcs stumbling around inside Erebor, do we?"
Thorin tilted his head to the side, his eyes tracing the route they'd just come, obviously mindful of those they'd left in the forge room.
"We can't, Kili. It would be cutting off an escape route we might need later." Thorin frowned, cursing his lack of foresight. "We should have brought Bilbo or Sigrid with us to mind the gate."
Tauriel raised her eyebrows. "I think they're both needed in the forge room to keep my friend and your kinsman from each other's throats."
Kili shook his head. "No way, Fili will behave himself with Sigrid around. You'll see."
Thorin gestured to the two of them impatiently. "Are you two ready? Follow behind me, both of you. And wait for my signal before you do anything rash."
The dwarf king stepped forward cautiously, passing under the grate with his sword crossed defensively over his chest, and Tauriel and Kili followed close behind him.
Just before they reached the cold, sunless daylight, she felt her dwarven lover give her arm a squeeze.
"Stay close to me. Don't you leave me alone here."
"Never, Kili."
And as the noise of the battle in Dale fully hit her ears, she gritted her teeth and readied herself for the onslaught. Blinking her eyes after so long underground, she rushed forward on Kili's right side, her sword readied to defend herself and her companions from any enemies foolish enough to get too close.
But the dwarf king slowed to a sudden halt, his black hair blowing in the wind as he stood scanning the buzzing streets in perplexity.
The orc army had evidently been taken by surprise. Not many of their number remained standing, and those that were left had been caught between two fronts. The tall, blond Mirkwood guard had encircled them from the upper reaches of Dale, while Dwalin's dwarves had stormed them from the lower parts of town – marching straight through the ranks of the Laketown folk, and shielding them from the frontlines of the fight.
"It seems the battle is won, my lord." Tauriel gazed in wonder at the elven fighting machine, seeing four elves she had once commanded working together to casually bring down a massive white orc at the centre of the bloody resistance. "Your people and mine have made short work of our enemy."
Thorin turned round and smiled faintly, but Tauriel saw the disappointment sag on his shoulders. "So it would seem." He studied the main street, eyeing up a group of big grey orcs that were harassing some young men at the mouth of a side street. One of the larger ones was lashing at the youths with a multi-tongued whip, seeming to delight in the violence he could still inflict, even though he must have known his side could not now win this fight.
Thorin motioned towards the horde. "Would you care to join me in a bit of cleaning up?"
Tauriel saw Kili's face stiffen in disgust at the sight of the big grey orcs, and she wondered suddenly if he recognised them. "Count me in."
"Just remember – the big one is mine." Thorin turned his bright blue eyes back towards them both, his expression dark. "He should be expecting me."
And with an ululating battle cry that Tauriel couldn't have pronounced in all of the seven ages, the dwarf king led their charge down the hill towards the orc pack.
The fell beasts didn't even notice their approach, so engrossed were they with tormenting their quarry, who tried in vain to defend themselves from the orcs with sticks and branches from a fallen tree. Tauriel guessed they weren't much older than teenagers, and probably hadn't even held a weapon before – let alone been attacked by an orc horde wielding swords, spears and knives.
Thorin ran right behind the biggest of the orcs, as the creature raised its whip in the air to strike at the men. "Remember me, friend?"
The orc missed the swing and wheeled round, suddenly keenly aware of the challenger at his exposed back – but it was too late. Thorin swung his sword deftly around the orc's belly, spilling its bowels onto the stone cobbles in a foul-smelling gush.
Its three surviving comrades instantly switched their attention to the incomers, and Tauriel smiled grimly, keeping her focus on her opponents despite the awful stench of fetid orc guts steaming on the side street. She selected one on the edge of the pack, and raised her sword as if to strike from the right, watching with a cool detachment as it mirrored her move defensively. She neatly stepped backwards on her left foot, anticipating her opponent's error, and sliced at its chest with an upthrust from the left. It was all too easy.
She saw Kili and Thorin were making good progress on the other two orcs, opting for a heart-stopping slice through the upper ribcage and a straight-out decapitation, respectively. She was impressed at the dwarves' speed and accuracy, given their diminutive stature next to the big orcs – and relieved they'd avoided spilling any more of the disgusting entrails on the streets of Dale.
That left just one of the orcs before them, which by rights should belong to Thorin, she supposed. The dwarf king turned his blue eyes coldly onto the sneering orc, his face and chest covered with the sprayed blood of its fallen comrades. He was clearly loving every minute of it.
He raised his sword in both hands, waiting for his opponent to make a move – any move – so he could parry it back and upon them – but without warning, the orc's eyes glazed over and it crashed to the ground at Thorin's feet.
A polished steel battle-axe lay buried deep within the back of its skull.
"Och, I'm sorry Thorin – were you wanting that one for yourself?" Dwalin came running up to retrieve his axe, an apologetic smirk on his face. "I didnae see you there."
The gruff-voiced dwarf made straight for his king, and Tauriel watched as they smashed their fists together affectionately. "I'm glad to see you again, Thorin, I'll tell you that." Dwalin turned to Kili and Tauriel, his smile deepening. "And you as well, Kili. My lady." He bowed slightly to the elf, and Tauriel felt herself grinning back too, as she looked around and saw there were no more orcs left living in sight.
They'd won. And Kili was safe beside her. She gave him a joyful glance, and shone in delight as he strode towards her purposefully.
"Tauriel," he took her face firmly, and guided her down to his level with his warm hands – and in front of them all, he kissed her with a rough passion that she'd never felt from him before. His lips were desperate and hungry for her, and she threw her arms around him, dropping her sword on the ground so she could draw his body closer to her breast.
His lips lingered on hers a second longer, before he broke away. "Is it over now?" He looked at her solemnly, with the orange and green glints in his eyes sparkling just for her, and Tauriel had to think for a second, afraid she was only dreaming.
"Yes, my love. We don't have anything to fear anymore."
She heard a cough from behind her, and turned round to face Thorin and Dwalin.
Dwalin was looking at them in bewilderment, as if waiting for Thorin's rage to rain down on them all – but the dwarf king just smiled wistfully at them both. "Well fought, both of you. You... worked well together."
Tauriel smiled graciously at his compliment, and nodded her head in thanks. "It was my pleasure, my lord. Your kingdom – and your people – are worth defending, and it is upon my honour to do so."
Thorin nodded gravely, and opened his mouth to reply – but then something else caught his attention.
Tauriel saw Bard approaching, flanked by a sturdy blond elf carrying a long silver sword. Blood coated its sharp edges, and she recognised the elf as Legolas' friend, Amonion. She'd partnered him many a time during their Mirkwood guard swordplay.
He nodded at her curtly as they approached the party of dwarves, no doubt having witnessed her and Kili's display of affection moments previous. She stifled a giggle, feeling a wonderful happiness bubbling within her as the realisation dawned in her that she didn't actually care. She rested her chin on the top of Kili's head, and watched her old friend approach the dwarves with an unexpected indifference.
"Thorin – you're alive." Bard extended his hand to the dwarf king, who shook it immediately. The man nodded to Kili and Tauriel, and looked around hesitantly. "And Fili?"
"Injured. He's in the forge room – along with Tauriel's elven friend." Tauriel saw both the man and elf were startled by this, but Thorin shook his head dismissively. "They'll be fine – don't worry. They're being tended to by your daughter, Bard."
The man raised his blue eyes to Thorin, relief all over his face. "With Sigrid? So she's alright? Nobody could find her – she wasn't with the others."
"She's safe, Bard. How have the rest of your people fared?"
The man regarded the streets, where the men and women of Laketown were already starting to pile the dead orc carcasses high in a heap. "There have been some casualties, of course. But not many. Our friends – elf and dwarf alike – have spared us much mischief today. My people and I will be forever grateful."
The blond elf spoke up, studiously avoiding looking at Tauriel. "We thank you for your recognition, Bard. But if my lords will excuse me, I must ask you to show me to Legolas immediately. We have trained healers among our guards, and he must be examined at once for – "
"Is that your boy there?" Dwalin pointed back towards the gates, squinting his eyes. "With Fili and Bilbo?"
They all turned to look, and Tauriel felt a rush of gratitude at the sight of her old friend stepping gingerly down the cobbles, one hand to his head as if the light was hurting his eyes. Beside him, Sigrid and Bilbo were keeping a close hand on Fili, as he limped his way towards them from Erebor, the hobbit's coat wrapped tightly around his damaged shoulder.
Thorin scowled angrily. "I told them to stay out of harm's way!"
"Uncle, the battle is over – they're not in harm's way." Kili laughed, waving a hand towards his brother, beckoning them over. "And besides, it seems to me that everyone else is out here – we should get the healers to set up inside one of the buildings in Dale."
Bard nodded his agreement. "It's been done, Kili. Your friend, Óin, is working with our wise women already." He screwed his face up as he saw the bloody welts lapping around Thorin's shoulders. "Maybe you should join the queue yourself, Thorin – those look like nasty injuries."
Thorin stood thoughtful – looking over at Kili wrapped up in Tauriel's arms, and Fili – propped up by Sigrid as they approached. "These are just scratches, Bard. It could have been worse." He smiled, seeing Bilbo break into a trot towards them. "Those whom we love are safe, and that is all that matters."
Kili cleared his throat pointedly, and Tauriel saw Thorin shift on his feet in discomfort. The dwarf king continued. "Of course, there are other important matters..." he nodded towards Fili and Sigrid. "And we must discuss them soon, Bard."
Dwalin frowned. "But what will we eat over winter, Thorin? We still need Dain and his food. Some of his troops were among the casualties here today. He will want repayment."
Bard shook his head. "But not with my daughter. The deal is off. Her intended husband is dead – seems Rose wasn't the forgiving sort, after all."
Thorin rolled his eyes, disgusted at the mere mention of the woman, and the man arched his eyebrows. "It appears that my daughter is free to marry whoever she chooses, Thorin." He eyed Sigrid affectionately, as her little band drew closer.
Bilbo was the first to arrive, making for Thorin and hugging him tightly. Sigrid seemed unsure about leaving Fili's side, but as she saw her father waiting for her she ran into his arms with a squeal. "Da', I missed you! Are Tilda and Bain – "
"They're fine, Sigrid."
Tauriel let go of Kili, allowing him to rush to his brother's assistance – wrapping an arm round Fili's waist to steady him and guide him over towards their group.
The elf left them to it, taking a few paces back up the hill towards her erstwhile comrade, and seeing the hurt on his face as he watched her step away from her dark-haired dwarven lover.
She addressed him in elvish, and saw Amonion turn sharply at her words – obviously worrying she would upset their mutual friend.
"Legolas, you fought nobly. I am forever in your debt." She crossed her arm across her chest. "Are you hurt?"
The blond elf shook his head solemnly. "There is no lasting damage, my lady." He gestured loosely around at the assembled men and dwarves. "Come and return with me to Mirkwood, Tauriel. You know you can never be truly happy to live here amongst these... people. They will never understand you. You can never be who you truly are with them."
Tauriel shook her head. "You are wrong. It is only here – with them – that I can be truly happy, Legolas. These people are good and they have much they can teach me." She spoke from the heart, but Legolas rolled his eyes.
"You love him, don't you? That dwarf with the dark hair. But what does he know of the ages of the world? Of the wind and the rain, or the sun and the stars? He is but an ignorant and graceless child, and when you realise that, you will long to come home."
Tauriel smiled. "He is my home. And my stars. A union of differences is stronger than joining the same on same, Legolas. I hope one day you will see that for yourself."
Legolas bowed to her sadly. "If you will not come with us, then I must bid you farewell. And may the gods grant you the happiness you claim to have found." He gestured to Amonion. "Gather the troops, and bring the wounded on horseback. We will return to my father's kingdom before nightfall."
The sturdy elf bowed to his prince, and glanced coldly at Tauriel. "May you live hereafter in peace , my lady."
Tauriel smiled softly. "The same to you, my friend." She studied Legolas, wondering what to say to someone she would certainly miss in the many days to come. "This kingdom is not a distant land, Legolas. You do not need to be a stranger to me."
The elf shook his head. "I will speak to my father, Tauriel, and I will have him send food supplies to this place for the winter. I will do this because I do not want these children to starve – and I will do it because I am your friend. But do not ask me to come here again."
She shook her head, sadly. "Thank you for everything, Legolas. I have always been – and always will be – your friend."
He gave her a stern look, his face rigid and unreadable, and nodded slightly. "Goodbye then, friend."
And the elf spun round gracefully on his heels, his pale hair spinning about his head, and strutted off to rejoin his countrymen. Tauriel felt a mixture of sadness and relief as he walked away from her, and watched him for a moment until she felt Kili's arm encircle her waist.
"That sounded serious."
Tauriel nodded, watching as the elves of Mirkwood gathered their gear together, about to leave her here forever. "Yes, it was." She turned round to the others, and realised most of them had been listening in on her conversation.
Dwalin pointed at the distant elf. "That lad has a crush on you. It's obvious even to me." Kili scowled over at the older dwarf, and Thorin shook his head in warning, but Tauriel shrugged.
"He says he will speak to his father, who will send us food supplies to last out winter."
Dwalin looked at her blankly. "And who's his father?"
Thorin clapped Dwalin on the back, and smiled indulgently. "Nobody you would care for, my friend – but it seems the king of Mirkwood might need an invitation sending to our forthcoming wedding celebrations!"
Dwalin stared at Thorin. "And who's getting married now? "
Tauriel felt herself blush as Thorin smiled warmly at her, sweeping his eyes around everyone in their little circle. "As the reigning king of Erebor – who from now on very much intends to remain unmarried– I must insist that my heirs take up their duties to further my house's line." He stared at Kili and Fili in turn. "You have my insistent permission to marry whomsoever your hearts may desire."
Tauriel saw Kili's face flush, and he stared down at the ground. "Do you mean that, uncle?"
Thorin nodded. "Of course. Time grows short and we die too soon. Why waste those happy opportunities that do come our way?" He gestured to Bard, who had one arm resting protectively on his daughter's shoulder. "What do you think, my lord? I think we have a rare opportunity here to make a new kind of kingdom, one that honours the unity our peoples' once shared – and extends it – to make us all stronger."
The man regarded his daughter, staring over at the blond dwarf, and nodded. "I think you're right, Thorin. And what better way to celebrate that unity than by my daughter taking your nephew's hand in marriage?"
Tauriel held Kili tighter, and smiled as she watched his blond brother. Fili's face turned from Sigrid to Thorin in a daze, as if he still didn't believe his uncle. He looked to Bard at last, his eyes shining.
"I love your daughter, my lord. And it is all I want to make her my wife, and do my best to make her happy – til the end of my days."
Thorin raised his eyebrow at Fili. "There's just one condition I have. And this goes for you too, Kili."
Kili shared a hesitant glance with his brother. "And what's that, uncle?"
Thorin laughed. "You must wait until summer, so your mother can be here for the celebrations. It's a long way from the Blue Mountains to Erebor." He shrugged at Bard with a sideways smile. "She'll string me up if she misses it."
"Aye, you don't want to get on the wrong side of Dis." Dwalin drew his finger across his neck pointedly. "She's got a bit of a thing for knives."
Kili snorted, and rolled his eyes at Tauriel. "Because she likes cooking! And carpentry."
Dwalin shook his head portentously. "No, I saw her pull one out on her brother here once. Gave him a black eye too."
Thorin waved his hand in irritation. "She thought I'd snubbed her fiancé. I made it up to her."
Fili nodded hastily, obviously keen to change the subject. "Of course we'll wait for her, Thorin. Is that it?" He looked to Sigrid, and saw her smiling at his excitement. "Do we have your blessing to marry?"
Thorin sighed, and met his oldest nephew's grey-blue eyes with a serious look. "Only if you get yourself to a healer in the next three minutes, Fili. I won't have you losing the use of your sword arm, and Sigrid will have no use for such a husband either!"
The blond dwarf looked awkwardly around, and his tawny-haired lover came at once to take his left arm. "Let's go – I know where they'll be. I'll take you, Fili."
He allowed her to lead him away, watching her tenderly as she weaved their way carefully in and out of the people passing by – ever mindful of his injury – until Tauriel lost sight of them both in the crowd.
The hobbit looked at the dwarf king quizzically. "You know, you should go too, Thorin. Your back will lose its flexibility if those scars don't heal properly."
Thorin rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Where is Óin? And the rest of our company?"
Dwalin pointed to where Fili and Sigrid had just gone. "Down there, near the healer's tent. I'll show you."
Bard nodded to Thorin. "We will speak tonight, Thorin. My people will do what we can to empty the streets of the dead, and if it pleases you, we will retreat inside Erebor after dark. I say tonight we hold a proper feast – one that the whole town can share in – and start our future anew in celebration together."
Thorin stared back at the gates of Erebor, his face sad all of a sudden. "Yes, Bard, you are right. There will be no more missed chances at peace. This celebration shall be for everyone – just as Erebor shall be a kingdom for us all."
He scanned the faces of those that were left, his jaw set firm. "I am sorry to you all for the trouble I have caused by allowing myself to be flattered and deceived. It is not beautiful trinkets or ostentatious displays that make a king powerful – it is the strength of his judgement. And I failed the first test." He looked into the eyes of each of them in turn. "But I will not fail you again, my friends."
And with that, the dwarf king turned to catch up with his nephew further down the street- flanked by Bilbo and Dwalin on either side.
Bard regarded Kili and Tauriel with a wry smile. "And what are your plans now, my soon-to-be kin?"
Tauriel considered. "I think some sleep would be nice."
Kili nodded. "That sounds like a great idea. I missed my bed more than anything last night." He noticed Tauriel's curious glance and corrected himself. "More than almost anything, I mean."
Bard smiled to himself, and looked around at all the people milling through the streets, as if searching for someone. He bowed to the pair of them. "Then I will give you my leave, my friends. I will see you later – I'm sure. Enjoy your sleep." He winked a blue eye at Kili, and made to catch up with a dark-haired woman who waved to him happily.
Kili stepped slowly and wearily back to Tauriel. "He thinks we're joking." The dwarf yawned. "I wish we were."
She shook her head. "The day is young, Kili." She looked around, taking in the cold, refreshingly damp air and the excited, happy people darting to and fro all around her. The day felt fresh with new beginnings, and for the first time since she'd met him, she felt suddenly secure in their future together.
All the obstacles were over. There was nothing that could part them now.
She smiled slowly. "This day is just beginning." And she took him by the hand, and led him back into Erebor where they could lie a while undisturbed.
All afternoon the throngs of people broke and reassembled on the streets, surging together to greet old friends and new, or cleaning and carrying the accumulated detritus of the second wave of bloodshed to be unleashed upon their quiet town. Some of them were sad and broken, and fearful of the new future that beckoned through the eye of the winter snows – whilst others rejoiced in the promised resurrection from the ashes into a shared new land full of promise and hope.
And some of them slept deeply, oblivious to the frenetic energy of the restless streets as they lay still in their darkened worlds of dreams and peace. They never noticed the clouds parting in the silver skies to show the gleaming sun beaming down on the brave survivors as the storm ceased, but they did see other sights from other worlds that only appear as visible to the mind.
And one such dreamer was the elf with the rare red hair, curled up asleep with the one she loved, keeping him close under guard even in her wearied state, with one pale hand across his waist, and her head on his heart.
Her dreaming took her far away, into a place where time and light couldn't follow, but even as she struggled to see through the creeping blackness, her eyes were once more assailed by a brightness that poured itself through the gaps in her conscious thoughts and reflected itself in rotating patterns made of gentle, rosy tones.
Tauriel, I wanted to know how you feel about my new tapestry. Does this one fit more in line with your expectations and desires?
The elf recognised the voice, but could see no face this time in the backdrop of swirling shapes that danced before her eyes.
"Yes, my lady. This version is much improved – if you don't mind me saying. I can be together with Kili, and his family are safe from harm. The kingdom of Erebor lies secure, and the people of Laketown have a new home."
And what about those that died, Tauriel? Was it worth it to them? Or do you not care about the cost to others?
The elf swallowed. She did indeed feel guilt for those who'd died to create this world, but it did not outweigh her relief that those whom she loved had lived – and she wasn't sorry for it either.
"My lady, I care about all life, and I take no pleasure in death – not even in the deaths of my enemies. But I do feel relief. And I do feel hope. And those qualities were not present in your other version. Not for me, and not for the many. But now, in this world, we can come together and build a future for ourselves, as one people, and I think even those who have died would recognise the value in that."
The radiant patterns spun faster around her, and the glowing light softened momentarily. She had the impression that the light was laughing at her, but her ears heard no sound.
You found the manuscripts in the library. You read the elvish writing. But you told nobody their secrets. So tell me, Tauriel, do you think such history existed in my 'other version' of your world – or did I change a great deal of things for you to get what you wanted?
Tauriel thought back to the strange writings she'd found with Ori – the writings of an elfmaid like herself, from a lowly background in the Mirkwood Forest, who had married one of the dwarves of Erebor. Not a prince, in this instance. Just a stone mason.
But her testimony had described her happy marriage in very candid terms, as if such a union was not uncommon in the early days of the mountain kingdom. Tauriel had wondered why she had never heard talk of this lady before, and where she was now – but she'd guessed that she herself couldn't be the only elf that Thranduil had banished over the years. Maybe Erebor had always been the natural destination for those of her kind who weren't afraid of making hard choices. Before the dragon fire had all but destroyed its cosmopolitan culture, built on commerce and trade.
"I think she always existed, my lady. You didn't change deep history just to enable this world to exist – it always did exist – we had just forgotten it. But now the world is ready to remember again."
The world is never ready to remember, Tauriel. You have to make it remember, and make it change, through your own efforts. You and Kili must make it change. That is why you have been given this chance. Because a darkness is coming, but it is only in darkness that we grow towards the light. Remember that, and be that light, and you shall always have our blessings.
The elf frowned. She didn't know what the light was asking her to do, but she understood it was permitting her to stay with Kili, and that was good enough.
She felt suddenly confused, as if all her thoughts were fragmenting like fracturing ice, and the light was starting to dim all around her. A strange whistling was in her ears, giving her the startling sensation of hurtling past vast spaces and stars in the blinking of an eye.
Good luck, Tauriel. I will be relying on you to help me weave this tapestry...
And the whistling in her ears intensified, to the point where it almost hurt. A pressure was building in her ears, as if she was deep underwater where the waves ran cold and dark. But as soon as she thought about the pain, it was gone, and the whistling stopped.
She was in her bed again. Beside Kili.
The woollen blanket was loosely draped over her waist, and her long, red hair hung over her face – but even so, she could see the traces of grey daylight peeping under the shutters they'd set across the window, hoping to keep the last traces of afternoon light away while they rested. And Kili slept beside her, his breathing steady and even, and his body warm and vital lying beside her.
Everything was as it should be.
She shut her eyes – and snuggled closer to him – and waited for the real dreams to begin.