Thank you and a million hugs to YOU. Please do enjoy this chapter. :)
Sixteen: Mil
Tauriel
Blood. That was all she remembered now. She could smell it, see it, feel it painting her skin, like clothes of red liquid. Sticky and warm and smothering. She did not know anymore whose it was. She did not know whether it was orc, human, or elvish blood. She did not know whether it was hers.
Legolas had let her go.
She stumbled through the wreckage, her breath sounded loud in the eerie silence of the dead. There were too many. Eyes stared at her, wide and transfixed. Dead eyes. They watched as she walked through. There were more bodies than she could count, and for a brief moment she wondered how many of them were killed by her blade. Her gaze passed through the faces, and landed on one she recognized.
Filarion's eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly parted. He looked almost asleep. His hands held his sword, even in death. Tauriel looked away and took deep breaths, before plodding on.
She ascended the steps of the ruined city, her limbs screaming at her for respite. Yet she continued. She needed to find him.
When she reached the ruins of Ravenhill, the cold shocked her skin and even numbed her hands. They were pink and raw, newly healed just a day ago, but now in worse condition than ever before. She ignored the wind that bit her flesh.
When she finally saw his body, everything stopped. Her vision darkened and she heard nothing but a strange ringing in her ears. And then a weight, heavy as boulders, crashed upon her. She swayed, blinded by the tears that rushed to her eyes. She staggered forward, like a puppet that could not walk properly.
No.
Please, no.
He was on his back, a wide cut marring his neck. Blood had oozed its way across the white floor, dirtying the snow that held him.. There was a hint of a smile etched on his face. Even in death, Kili laughed. And his brown eyes stared at her. Tauriel remembered how they had once held so much life, so much mirth and kindness. Now they were empty, fogged by the touch of death. And by his side, only a few paces away, was his brother.
Anguish filled her blood like a poison.
So many. So many had died. It had all seemed like a dream, yet now the truth slammed into her, hard. It took the air in her lungs, forcing her to gasp for breath. She fell forward, landing on her knees.
Now, even dear, sweet, Kili. Tauriel took the stone from her pocket. He had given it to her before he and the others followed their kin to the Lonely Mountain. She was tempted to place it in his hand, but she could not bear to surrender this as well. Instead, she clutched his hand in her own, desperate to search for warmth in the blood that no longer flowed.
And then, finally, she wept. She wept for all who had lost their lives, for Glines, Eloen, and Filarion, the friends she had found and lost. She wept for Kili, for the promise to his mother that he had made and broken, for his love unreturned. And Aegnir. Ever since their escape from the mountain, she had not shed a tear for her friend. She denied and delayed, never crying. But now the tears broke through the dam she had built. Aegnir, her brother, friend, and protector. Patient and guiding, and now gone. She had not even told him. She had not even said goodbye.
She was still weeping when Legolas found her, while the great eagles soared above.
Legolas
Even weeks after, the laments echoed through the halls of Mirkwood. The voices were incoherent because Legolas was a great distance from the source, but they still flowed with grief and longing, and listening to it wrenched Legolas' already mourning heart. They forbade him to forget all he tried to push aside.
They had buried the bodies, at a forest by the edge of Dale. They could not be brought back to Mirkwood—there were too many of them. He had watched as soil covered their forms, urging their souls to the Halls in Valinor, and their bodies back to the Earth's womb. There had been so many mounds and they filled the barren valley like small, brown mountain ranges. Tauriel had not cried then. He feared she had emptied herself of tears when he found her in Ravenhill, but it was different when they went to the burial of Durin's line. She had tried to hide it, but he saw the silent tear that leaked down her face as she touched Kili's tomb.
He knew now that she had loved him. It had been hard to fathom, for he had always believed her to simply be protective of the dwarf, but he had been wrong. For only love could have made her suffer so. He knew, because he felt the same anguish within him. But he would not—could not—weep. Instead, the emotions boiled and seethed within him, until his head throbbed and his body tired with sentiment. Sometimes, he envied her tears. He wished that he could weep for all the friends he had lost. For there were countless of them, elves he had grown up with, fought with, and for many centuries, lived with. And Aegnir...
The mere thought of him still made Legolas' vision swim. It was worse at first, the memory of his friend had made Legolas sick with regret and anger and sadness, and so much more. For days, he had been filled with a torrent of grief. He had spent the days after their escape avoiding Tauriel, for seeing her had only reminded him of the secret love that Aegnir had kept, and Legolas was cursed to hide. But when the battle dawned, they searched each other, and it was by each other's side that they warred. Side by side, they stood. Two souls hungry to end the evil that had already broken them.
For Aegnir, there had been no crypt, no tomb, no grave. Just as it had been for Legolas' mother. It seemed he was doomed to suffer graveless death of those he loved.
Yet even after everything, it was still because of Aegnir that Legolas knew now what to do.
It was when the battle was finished that he realized he could not return to Mirkwood. Even now, the halls suffocated him with memories and whispers of those who had gone. He knew he needed to leave, but he did not know to where. Until he remembered Aegnir, and the mission he had toiled after.
He had not told Tauriel yet. In fact, he had barely spoken to her since they had left the ruins of the battle. In the entombment they had unknowingly sought one another, each providing the support the other needed. He had held her when she wept in Ravenhill, and he had been close to her as they travelled back, but few words had been exchanged between them. Whatever squabbles or misunderstandings they had before seemed centuries ago, overshadowed and hugely overpowered by their woes. He missed their conversations, but he knew that the grief was still too near, for them both. They needed to heal. They needed to conquer past shadows and find answers, on their own.
And it was what they had done. Tauriel was stripped off her position as the Captain of the Guard, and Meginor replaced her. Legolas did not wish it was so, but it was a far better punishment than what he had feared for her. She had defied the King's orders, and more than that, she had barred the king, threatened him, and aimed her arrow at him. If Legolas had not arrived... he dreaded to consider it.
Tauriel, when the judgment had been passed, seemed confused. She had offered to leave, but the King forbade it. And so far, she was yet to break his order. While Legolas sought relief outside of the Kingdom's walls, she chose to stay inside, locking herself in her room.
Soon, perhaps, it would be time to talk to her. He knew that he must tell her of what he chose to do. But first, he needed to speak with his father.
He stood outside the doors to his King's chamber, his hand hovering over the knob. Returning inside was like returning to the life he was now tired of, the life of a prince. But he did not have a choice, and this was what must be done for him to reach his goal. He took a deep breath and turned the knob, swinging the great doors open.
King Thranduil was alone. A memory flashed in Legolas' mind. More than anyone, more than life. The words still echoed clearly in his head. They were what had helped him survive the aftermath of the battle. Yet he knew from the look in his father's eyes that it was not for his mother that Thranduil had called for him. "My Lord," Legolas gave a curt bow.
Anyone would have thought that the King had been unaffected by the war, but Legolas knew. For Thranduil, it had always been the little gestures. It was the way he had looked at the battle's wreckage, with grief and fear hidden well beneath his eyes. It was the way he had spoken of his mother, and the way he had chosen to leave the precious jewels behind.
Thranduil looked at him, his blue eyes still cold and piercing, though Legolas saw clearly the smallest crack underneath them. "The Lady Galadriel is coming," his father said, straightforwardly.
Even after all that happened, his father's statement took Legolas by surprise. "Why?" he asked.
"She comes to mourn her kin who were slain in the Battle," he answered.
Mirkwood was leagues away from Lothlorien. Even with news of death, he had not known anyone who would travel so far to pay respects. And by the time she would arrive, their deaths would have been long put behind.
"She travels from Dol Guldur," Thranduil said, reading Legolas' questioning look. "She will be here within a fortnight."
Legolas nodded. Dol Guldur was only a few days worth of travel from their kingdom, and after Lothlorien, theirs was the dwelling nearest to the wreckage.
"You must prepare for her arrival," Thranduil stared at him. "I tell you this because you have been absent from these halls, as of late."
Legolas dropped his gaze. His father spoke truly. He constantly found comfort in the forest, yes, but it had come at the cost of abandoning his post. But how could he have stayed inside? Instead of answering, Legolas lifted his head to meet his father's eyes, slowly. "I cannot stay here."
There was no surprise in Thranduil's face.
"Where will you go?" he asked, holding his gaze.
"When Aegnir left here, seven years ago, he had gone in the hopes of finding those responsible for the madness that took Gobelion. He had found the caves, and these we had perused, as I have told you. But we never found the one who led them. They spoke of him, an elder. I will search for him, bring him to justice, and complete the task he had not finished." He was asking much of his father, he knew. But there was no other way.
It was almost indiscernible, but his father's eyes softened as he took in Legolas' words. His voice was quiet when he spoke, and almost gentle. "Very well."
Tauriel
"Love?" Tauriel felt uncharacteristically nervous.
"Yes," Aegnir nodded, a small smile creeping to his face. "What do you think of it?"
Tauriel fought to push away the images that crept to her mind, most of them, of a blonde eyed friend. "I... I have heard tales of it. And I do think it is a wonderful thing, but I also think nothing is more sorrowful."
"How so?" he asked. As always, Aegnir listened to her with rapt attention, his brown eyes boring into her.
"Hearts only seem to celebrate love when it is reciprocated, but that is not always the case. In fact, most of the time, it is difficult for one to return an offered heart. Sometimes, it is because they are too hurt already, or maybe because they yearn for someone else, or because they regard them as a different kind of love, or simply because they do not want to. I think, despite all its beauty, love is a terrible and dangerous thing." When she finished, she twirled her dagger in her hand, afraid of what he would think of her words. Had she been too eager to share such simplistic views?
Instead, he smiled. His eyes softened in what seemed like a sad manner. "You are right," he agreed, surprising her. "But though it may be unrequited, I think loving someone in itself is a kind of happiness."
His words made her pause, and Tauriel tried to juggle them in her mind, struggling to understand. She stared at him, taking in his somber expression. Then a heavy sensation seemed to creep into her, and a sudden suspicion blossomed in her mind. Could it be? She looked away, her thoughts squeezing and expanding, until she sighed and shook her head, discarding the words and questions forming in her mind. "I surrender. It seems pondering upon this will only give me a headache."
He laughed, grinning amusedly at her, before turning his attention to the heavens.
The sun was setting then. It flashed a myriad of colors: pink, purple, blue and orange. Its final performance before it bowed itself out of the stage that was the sky.
The dusk would set in, and she knew that even now Legolas awaited her. She gave Aegnir an apologetic look. "I would like to stay but—,"
He raised a hand and ruffled her hair, effectively silencing her reasons. He had always loved to ruffle her hair. "I know," he said. "Tauriel," he said her name.
He was smiling, and he urged her to go.
"Tauriel," a voice echoed in the dark.
Tauriel's eyes snapped open. Silver light beamed through her open windows. She was on her side, lying at the edge of her bed. It was only late afternoon when she made her way here, and it seemed she had slept herself through the dusk and the early evening. She had been falling asleep very often lately, and the dreams that haunted her baited her out of the dark reality. They were usually of memories. They had been long forgotten, but when she dreamed, they returned to her clear as the day. "Tauriel," the voice continued, now knocking softly. Irima, she recognized.
She forced herself up, and stepped from the warmth of her bed. "Enter."
Irima walked in, her footsteps quiet. "We missed you at supper," she said. The glassed torches of the room illuminated the worry in her face.
Tauriel smiled as she gestured to the seat at the other side of the room, it took strength, to lift the sides of her lips. When Irima had seated, she took the other chair. "I... could not bring myself to desire for the taste of food."
"But you need it. You barely eat, you barely even show yourself anymore," Irima told her. "It has been four weeks since we returned, yet I have not seen much of you," she said gently.
Tauriel could not meet her eyes. Her friend had spoken truly. Much of her time was spent in the confines of her room or, when she determined that Legolas would not be there, at the highest platform of the Kingdom.
"You did not even come out when the Lady Galadriel arrived."
"I apologize," Tauriel murmured. But the mention of the Lady of Light reminded Tauriel of an issue that would lift up their somber dialogue. "I have heard of Gobelion," she smiled, and it came easier this time.
"Yes." The transformation in Irima's face was astounding. Her blue eyes shone with joy and a constant smile lingered behind each word she spoke. "He is now at the House of Healing. He is still weak in body, but his mind is clearer than before. He remembers only a shadow of the time he was poisoned, and a constant whispering in his mind, speaking to him of what he must do," Irima met her eyes. "He looks forward to meeting you."
Tauriel looked away, taking in the emptiness of her room. She had no wishes of meeting new acquaintances yet. Not when memories of her friends were still so fresh. "Soon, perhaps," she answered. Then, she wondered. "How was he healed? We tried everything, all the herbs we had at our disposal..."
Irima was shaking her head. "They say it was something that could not be cleared by any medicine. It was something stronger. A kind of dark magic, I have heard them say," she frowned. "It is why only the Lady Galadriel had been able to battle it. Because she had power of her own, and it was much more powerful than the darkness in Gobelion's mind. Yet even then, the Lady had to rest for many days after." Irima shook her head again, and when she stopped, she was again smiling. "But do not trouble yourself with the rumours, Tauriel. Just know that it has been finished now. Gobelion is healed, the caves are gone, the enemies defeated. But..." her face fell suddenly as if she suddenly remembered somthing. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it without uttering any words. When she looked at Tauriel, she shook her head, and muttered, more to herself, "No. Never mind."
"What is it?" Tauriel recognized the hesitation behind her friend's eyes. "Tell me," she frowned.
"I do not know if it would be the right time—,"
"I have been grieving, but it does not mean I am weaker than I ever was before. You do not have to protect me from words," she snapped. Irima withdrew, and Tauriel was suddenly ashamed. She had spoken rashly, and to a friend who had only good intentions towards her. When Tauriel spoke again, it was at a gentler tone. "Do not keep me in the dark. Irima, what is it?"
Irima met her eyes, and Tauriel was not sure whether it was pity or fear that clouded them. Perhaps it was both. "Legolas is leaving Tauriel. He means to continue Aegnir's search."
Long after Irima had left her room, the news still haunted Tauriel. She stayed awake, standing behind the windows, as she gazed outside. The moon had a reddish tint to it, and it bathed the clouds under it in the same flushed light. After everything that had happened, she thought she could not suffer any further. The news saddened her, yes, but it did not surprise her. Legolas had not cried, but she saw the weight of it all pressing upon him, suffocating him. It was just like him, to yearn for other places and finish what had been left undone.
It did not surprise her, but it did not mean it would not hurt. The pain was new, and it added to all that she carried in her heart. Yet somehow it did not seem like the rest. It was a pain of separation, of goodbye, but it was a pain of life. Suddenly, she was filled with the desire to feel the wind against her skin, to speak with the voices that whispered beyond her door.
But first, she had to let go. She closed her eyes, letting the memories drown her. Eloen. Glines. Filarion. Kili. Aegnir. Eloen. Glines. Filarion. Kili. Aegnir. One last time.
A single tear fell from her eye.
She wiped it away with the back of her hand. And, for the first time in many days, Tauriel walked to the door and left her room.
She wept no more.
Legolas
He did not know what urged him to go there. It was the middle of the night, and he had already spent most of the day roaming the forest. The whole day would have been spent there, if only the Lady Kylis had not requested for his presence. He had declined, but the she-elf had been adamant. So he had given an hour, and then immediately lost himself in the trees of Mirkwood. Still, he yearned for a sight of the skies. He climbed the high steps and by the time he arrived at the top, his legs screamed with exhaustion. Then he pushed the single door. It had been so familiar before, but he had not seen it in many days.
When he finally stepped onto the familiar platform, the wind kissed his face. The stars twinkled, and the blood-red moon looked down upon him.
But he was not alone.
She stirred when he closed the door behind him. With quick movements, she turned towards the noise.
And then their eyes met.
Seconds, minutes, hours. Legolas could not tell. All he knew was that seeing her then was like seeing her for the first time. And then, miraculously, she smiled at him. It was not forced, nor heavy. Sorrow still surrounded her, but it was not as puissant as it had been before. Time had healed Tauriel well.
"Legolas," she said his name, and the trance was broken. He walked towards her, leaning at the balustrade at her side.
"I did not think I would see you here tonight," he said.
"No," her voice was soft. "I did not think I would be here tonight, either."
Silence fell on them. They simply stood together, looking out at the forest far below them. For the first time since it happened, Legolas allowed himself to return to the time before her kidnap. The memories had been buried, beneath the weight of the war, but as soon as he called to them, they rushed at him like hungry hunters. They flashed before his eyes: his confession, the kiss, and her choice to stay. Suddenly, he felt the discomfort grow within him, until it blossomed once again to the pain that it had been. Heartaches did not heal easily, he knew now.
He chanced a glance at her. She seemed troubled.
"Irima told me," she said. "That you are leaving soon."
It was not the words he had expected from her, and her knowledge of it took him by surprise. He took a deep breath. "Yes. I was planning to tell you soon."
She gave him the smallest of smiles. "Can I still convince you to do otherwise?"
"No." The audacious way she stared him elicited a chuckle from him. He could not remember the last time he had smiled. But as he said the word, he knew it was true. Nothing would make him stay now. He knew in his heart that this was the path for him to follow, and betraying his decision was impossible to do. "It is something I must do."
"Yes, I thought you would say that," her smile dissolved into something remorseful. "Still, I wish you would not have to leave."
He had no answer to that. He could not tell her how the idea of separating from her was the biggest barrier to his plans. He could not tell her how much he would miss her, how much she would always haunt him. He could not tell her, for he had vowed to leave her to her peace, and love her on his own.
"How long will you be gone?"
He had wondered that as well. "I do not know. For as long as I find the elder Adassir had spoken of, perhaps. He was the root of this all, and as long as he lives, there will always be the fear of the repetition of the past."
She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then she released the breath she held. "I dreamed of him, and of my mother," she admitted.
He quirked a brow. "When?"
"While they held me hostage in the cave. And it was his voice I heard, when they captured me. And, I..." she swallowed, fear crept into her eyes but she forced the words out. "I am from Ethelline as well. I am their kin."
"...I know," he answered her softly.
"How?" she sounded surprised.
"Aegnir was from Ethellin as well, and they had wanted to take him. You, they also deliberately sought out. They do not attack at random, Tauriel. And even if they do, it was suspicious that they took you unharmed. Had you been poisoned, or wounded, then I would have believed otherwise. They had wanted you to join their cause, as one who shared their blood," his voice was heavy.
"Your mother. The queen. I am sorry—," she began, but he cut her before she could speak.
"No," he said firmly. "You are not to blame. You were but a child when my mother died, how would you have ever played a role in her demise?"
She shrunk. She did not push on, but regret still hung about her heavily. "There are still too many holes," she whispered. "I have never yearned to know of my past, but I had never tasted it before. Now I crave it heavily. It has taken root in my heart, and I suffer my ignorance."
Legolas' heart reached out towards her. "When I find him, we will learn of the truth."
She nodded. "And if not, I will search for the truth myself." Her gaze softened, and she raised her head to the stars. "But not yet. I fear my heart and body screams for rest."
He sighed, following her gaze. "Yes," he whispered back.
When she touched him, he froze. Her fingers were calloused and worn, as familiar to him as his own hand. She was cold, but her flesh warmed as they pressed to his. With a soft sigh, he accepted her touch and wrapped her hand in his.
He could feel the blood pulse through her skin, and it seemed to throb along with his. It was as if they were flowing with a current faster than before.
Legolas tightened his hold on her hand. They had healed on their own. But now, he realized that only together had they reaffirmed life.
Tauriel
After many weeks of mourning came the feast. It was a celebration to honor the arrival of Lady Galadriel, and also to mark her end of stay in the Halls of Thranduil. She would not be leaving alone, however, for the Prince, and all their visitors from Imladris, were also to set out the next day. Drink was plentiful, and so was the music and food. Many were filled with laughter and song, but Tauriel could not find it in herself to join the celebrations.
"I have never seen a more unnatural cheerfulness," Meginor frowned at her. He leaned his head on his hand, leaning closer to her. "It pains me to even look at your smile." His breath smelled strongly of the alcohol in his cup.
Tauriel dropped her smile, and her lips thanked her for the release. "At least I tried," she said.
"Come, Tauriel. You must enjoy the night. You deserve it, after... after everything," Irima looked down at her plate.
Gobelion placed his hand gently on Irima's, smiling at her. Then he gazed at Tauriel. "What has gotten your spirits down, my lady?" he asked in his quiet voice. Tauriel managed not to cringe from his address. She had almost forgotten the life she had once lived, but Gobelion seemed to be fixed on it, no matter how many times she told him that she was but a common elf of Mirkwood now.
"It saddens me that many of our dear friends must leave so soon," she reasoned, trying at a frown. It was much easier to wear than a smile.
"You did not seem to be too fond of those from Imladris." The alcohol had made Meginor speak even more bluntly than ever. "And if this is about Legolas—which I believe it is—, well, it's not like he will be away forever," he took another gulp of his drink. "And we're friends with him as well, but you do not see me moping."
"I am not moping," Tauriel narrowed her eyes at her friend.
"Yes, well," Meginor's gaze flittered over the dance floor. "If you're not moping, then the Lady Kylis is not in high spirits."
Tauriel followed his gaze. Kylis seemed fairer than ever. Her dress seemed to flow with her every movement, and the lights shone in her brown eyes. She was beaming, and the gentle grin she wore softened her face. Tauriel could not look away from her. She seemed so innocent and joyous that she could not imagine her to be the same she-elf who once disliked her so.
"She does seem quite happy," Gobelion commented, almost shyly.
"Of course she is." The disapproval was evident in Tauriel's face. "She told me this morning how much she looks forward to her betrothed."
"Dance with me, then," Meginor suddenly said, grinning. "I assure you that nothing will make—,"
"It is the Harvest Moon tonight, is it not?" Irima interrupted, looking meaningfully at Tauriel.
It took only a few seconds for Tauriel to realize what her friend was trying to do. "Oh, yes," she agreed, and Meginor's words drowned into the music. "I had been looking forward to seeing it. In all honesty, I do think it would make me enjoy the night better," she stood. "If you'll excuse me," she gave a curt nod, smiling at them all before leaving the table.
She walked quickly to the wide balcony that jutted from the mountain side. It was just outside the Great Hall, and the music and laughter drifted through the glass and wooden doors, but here, she had air, and the skies above her. Here, she did not have to feign enjoyment and keep her smiles. She inhaled deeply, and pressed her hands on the cold balustrade.
Then there was a soft creaking behind her, and for a few moments the noise within blasted to her as clearly as if she were inside. She turned on the intruder, wondering who would prefer the silence over the merriment as she had, and found herself face to face with the blue-eyed prince.
This surprised her, for when she last saw glanced at him, he had been speaking amiably with the other elves. But she composed herself quickly. "What are you doing here?"
He quirked a brow, but a smile played at his lips. "I was following you," he answered nonchalantly. "Now, mellon, what are you doing here?"
"Escaping the feast," she confessed just as easily.
"And why would you want to leave?" he persisted.
She frowned at him. "I think the more proper inquiry would be why I didn't leave earlier."
This time, he truly smiled. He glanced behind him, past the clear glass doors to the great tables that stood parallel to each other. "Those seated by you seemed to look otherwise."
Tauriel sighed. "That's because Meginor's joy is heartened by his liquor. So much that his speech is impossibly more candid than before. And as for Gobelion and Irima, well, either of them individually would have brought merry company, but together...neither of them had any time to pay attention to anybody else, as they had spent almost all of the night either staring, smiling, or whispering to each other."
"Now I truly feel sorry for your evening," he smiled. He walked towards her, stopping at her side. "And I see why you would prefer to be under the light of the heavens. The night is bright and beautiful," he observed.
She nodded. The moon was full and haloed by thin clouds. The balcony faced the river, and she could see the waters rippling white and grey, and she could also see Legolas' face clearly. He wore a white robe, and a gentle smile played at his lips. At that moment, she could not imagine him as the hard warrior he was.
Staring at him, she was reminded of the conversations they had held at the feast with her friends. "Meginor says you will return by the end of five years. Irima wagers that it will take longer."
Legolas smirked at the thought. "And you? What do you think?"
"I wish you did not have to leave at all. And you have already told me, don't you remember? You said you will be gone for as long as it takes to finish what has been left undone. And for me it, time will not matter, for no matter how long it will take you to come back, it will hurt just the same to see you leaving again." Speaking the words required more courage than she had thought. She had never felt so flustered over speaking with him. Somehow, it was all different, now that she knew what she felt for him.
The smile fell, and he gazed at her with sad eyes. "But you know I will be thinking of you, every day I will be gone, no matter for how long it takes?" he asked.
His words took her equally by surprise. She turned away from him, because she wished to hide the redness that was sure to mark her cheeks, and because she did not know how to respond.
"It seems we have a dislike for these celebrations, don't we?" Legolas continued lightly, as if he had said nothing. "We always seem to manage to find ourselves outside, listening to the merriment through thick walls."
She shrugged, smiling. "The presence of so many chattering can be tiring," she told him. "I prefer the company of the heavens."
Legolas nodded, then seemed to look thoughtful. "Aegnir would have loved to be here."
Tauriel paused, but the mention of their friend's name instead brought an unexpected melancholic smile to her face. "Yes. He would have. He loved the buzz of celebrations."
They both turned silent, and Tauriel was almost sure that they were both thinking of Aegnir. "Perhaps we should return?" Legolas said, after a few minutes.
"Yes..." she agreed, albeit hesitantly. She had thought she could get away with missing the celebrations, but she knew Legolas was right. They had to return.
"I shall return to your table with you," he said, giving her a look, as they started walking back to the Great Hall.
"Won't you be missed?" she asked, surprised.
"Father can handle the guests by himself," Legolas shrugged. "And it seems you need me more than they do."
She nodded thankfully, then walked quicker as she pulled him by the hand. "Come, then."
He held on to her hand. "Tauriel?" he asked, confused.
When they pushed the doors open, she gave him a grin, and her eyes shone brightly in the night. The music blasted, and Tauriel spoke a bit louder as she looked back at him. "Dance with me."
He almost stops, and his eyes grows a bit wider, but soon he reflects the grin on her face and nods.
Legolas
"I knew you would be here."
Legolas turned toward the voice, though he had known who it was since the moment the door had opened. "I thought I would get a glimpse of this view, before I leave. Though I fear I may not be able to imprint all the details I would want to remember."
She did not answer him, but took his usual side.
The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was turning gray. He knew it was just a matter of minutes before they would have to leave, for the whinnying of distant horses could be heard from the gates. But he had wanted to see the sun rise in the heights of their kingdom, at the platform that had become his escape, and maybe hers as well.
"I wonder what I will find. Whether it would bring good or bad. But either way, it is answers I hope to seek. So that these questions may stop haunting our living and we would know what to do. I hope to find peace as well, though it seems a more distant goal than all the rest." His father had told him about it, though Thranduil did not need to. The evil that the wizard and the Lady Galadriel had driven out of Dol Guldur may not have died. And a shadow was growing in the East.
When still she made no reply, he placed a worried hand on her shoulder. "Tauriel? You are quiet," he said.
She clenched her eyes shut, and when she opened them, sorrow was clear. "I... do not know what to say. But I am scared." Her voice was quiet.
"You need not be," he answered gently. "Do you have that little faith in the one who taught you to battle?"
Albeit small, she gave him a smile. "Maybe," she teased, then the smile disappeared again. Instead of saying more, she turned towards him and took his hand. "Here."
Legolas stared at their linked hands, surprised. There was something between their palms. Small and soft and cold. "What is it?" he asked.
"It is a promise." She met his eyes. "That we will see each other again. That you will return to me."
He did not understand, but his other hand rose to cover hers. "I promise," he said, wishing that he could take the worry from her.
Slowly, she pulled away, and Legolas gazed at the object she had left in his hold.
It was a black stone, small and smooth, with marks on its surface. They were words he could not read. "This—," he realized he had seen it before. Many times. "—this is from Kili."
"It is," her eyes softened. "He gave it to me, before he returned to the Mountain."
Legolas swallowed, transfixed by the small object. Memories flooded back to him, and added weight to his chest. He clenched the stone in his hand, but he still kept his eyes on where it had been. "You loved him," he said, not understanding why he was saying this, why he was saying it now. It made no difference, whatever her answer was. But the words had fallen from his lips, and he could not take them back.
"Yes," she answered easily, and Legolas turned away. He had known, but hearing her words still hurt. He smiled sardonically, wishing he could speak to Aegnir again. What an ironic trio they had made as friends. Both falling in love with the same elf, but both losing to one they had once deemed lesser beings than they. Yet he had promised him he would take care of her, and he would do that. He would take care of her, and he would love her, despite it becoming unreturned. And she, loving one who was now stolen by death.
"I suppose I should have known," it was difficult to meet her eyes. "And... the night before Esgaroth... I am sorry," he said, though he was not sure why he was apologizing. Was it because of the kiss? Because he had crossed the line that had marked them as friends? Because he had expected her to return his feelings? Or because he had told her he loved her?
"That night," Tauriel turned away as well, and she looked uncomfortable. "I... you asked...for an answer," she kept her eyes on the ground.
"You do not have to tell me," he said hurriedly, wishing to end the uncomfortable situation they were in. He had not wished to say goodbye to her this way. "It was clear when—,"he stopped when she took a step towards him. Then, she took a deep breath before facing him, eyes determined.
Without saying another word, she reached up and kissed him.
He froze. Her lips felt as soft as he remembered. Like before, they seemed scared, but sure. And then, before he could do anything, she quickly pulled away.
His eyes grew bigger as he understood what she had just done. "What—?"
"That, is my answer," she said, unable to look him in the eyes. A reddish warmth crept to her cheeks. "Le mellin, Legolas."
"But you just said... Kili... you loved him?" he stammered, his words a blur of incoherence.
She paused, wide eyed, before laughing, the red in her cheeks only growing more apparent. "I love him, yes, but only as I would love a brother—wait," she narrowed her eyes. "Is that what you had believed? That I loved him romantically?"
He stared at her for a long moment before sighing exasperatedly. "Yes." He brought a hand to his brow. "Tauriel, you are worse than the most confusing riddle," his voice seemed tired.
"But I never said I considered him that way!" she frowned at him. It was apparent that her embarrassment was growing by the second.
His fingers rubbed his temple, as he tried to piece the puzzle together. Yet there were too many, too many doubts and bumps and assurances that he surrendered, choosing instead to fall into one simple truth: Tauriel loved him. When he looked back at her, she still could not meet his gaze and he chuckled as he reached out, tipping her face to his. " You are indeed a paradox," he whispered, smiling as he brushed his thumb lightly over her cheek. When finally she shyly met his gaze, he again captured her lips with his, while the first of the sun's rays cast golden shadows in the sky.
END OF STORY
A/N: I do hope you guys haven't given up on me yet. But what's my excuse for the late update this time? Well, it is simply that I really wanted to have the best version for this chapter to be uploaded, but I couldn't find anyone to beta for me (sobs). Thus, the updating got delayed and delayed, til I got busy with classes, til I came upon this file in my desktop, and figured what the hell. I went through it one last time, and I'm pretty sure the last edits I gave it are the only ones I could ever add to this chapter to make it better.
So. I can't believe it's come to this! After almost two and a half years, we've finally reached the end of TOM! I would like, again, to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and put this story in their alert list. I owe you my motivation and drive and continuous love for this marvellous couple. And I hope to see you in the sequel!
The sequel (which will tackle the LOTR timeline) will be posted, in the best case, around the end of May—be kind guys, I'm finishing my thesis! :o But you can check my profile for announcements. I'm making a Tales of Mirkwood section and I'll be answering/replying/posting updates there whenever I've made progress with the new chapter.
So, again, thank you and much love to all!
Le melin = I love you.
Mil is Sindarin for Love (n.). A bit cheesy, but a fitting end to this fic, I think.
XO,
Vee
