Chapter VII

Tauriel shifted her weight from one foot onto the other. Three quarters into her second shift as a personal guard of the king and she was bored out of her mind. Admittedly, the shifts were rather long since her kind did not require much rest, but still…

Her only task seemed to consist of stationing herself at a convenient position in the throne room or in one of the smaller chambers where Thranduil held his many councils and watch out for any suspicious behavior of the visitors that came to see the king or any other kind of disturbances.

For the most part, the individuals that Thranduil spoke with were high-ranking members of the king's council who gave reports about their respective area of expertise and advised their king as to how to proceed in a certain matter. At the moment, Tauriel was witnessing a particularly lengthy and elaborate speech by an ancient elf named Maeasson who gave a very detailed report on the current status of the harvest of the grains needed to make Lembas bread.

Tauriel yawned. The other guard who was on duty with her and currently positioned across the room gave her a disapproving look. Tauriel resisted rolling her eyes at the other elf, a rather young and eager lad named Thrandir.

How was she supposed to stand an indefinite period of having to do this every day? Her muscles ached for movement and her senses longed for a change of scenery, fresh air and powerful sensual impressions.

While keeping up an air of alertness on the outside, Tauriel tried to let her mind wander and imagined herself running through the woods, her hair whipping behind her in the wind and the ground solid and uneven below the soles of her feet. She imagined the stars above her, little diamonds in the sky that were shining down on her.

It was not of her own volition that the shining stars in front of her inner eye were soon replaced by soft brown eyes that sparkled with a light that was unrivalled even by the brightest star. The picture was completed by full lips that curved upward into a roguish smile, thick, dark curls and a fascinating stubble, the pleasant scratch of which Tauriel could still vividly remember from when it had grazed her skin during an unexpected, passionate kiss…

Tauriel jerked herself out of her reverie, afraid that she would make a fool of herself if she didn't. No, this would not do. If she ever wanted to get used to her new position and not make things harder for herself than they already were, lingering on this romance that had never really begun was something that she would have to avoid. At least during her working hours.

During her free time this was of course a wholly different matter. Upon her return to Mirkwood, she had initially considered simply banning all thoughts of Kíli from her mind and to only take them up again once she felt it would be safe to so, once the pain that the memories caused her would have dulled. However, she had quickly realized that her control over her own mind was not as strong as she had hoped it would be. Since her return she had not rested properly, but had instead been tormented by doubts, memories and this new, raw kind of longing deep inside of her which she had not known before her eyes had fallen upon this cursed, reckless, strangely handsome young dwarf.

Tauriel suppressed a sigh and shifted her weight once more. Thrandir glared at her, but she simply stared back until he looked away, frowning. Tauriel had never been excessively popular amongst the other Elves in the king's palace, who were often perplexed by her temper, so much more unpredictable than their own, and her somewhat restless nature. She was respected, yes, but not regarded with much warmth. From time to time she had captured the interest of young male Elves that were fascinated by her strength and combative skills. When it came to a more serious commitment, they had however always turned towards young elf-maids who were more docile, more graceful and less fiery than she was.

Not that Tauriel minded, for that matter. She had enjoyed the attention of each of her suitors for some time, as well as the secret, always slightly awkward exchange of caresses in dark corners, but none of them had ever touched her heart, none of them had ever made her… feel alive.

And then there had of course always been Legolas, who had never tried to touch her in that way, but who had, unlike the others, been genuinely fond of her and stood by her side loyally despite what people thought of her. The logical consequence would have been to choose him as her mate, but somehow Tauriel knew that Legolas could never truly stir her passion nor capture her heart. She hoped that deep inside he knew this, too, despite what his father had suggested to her recently.

Before her shift had begun, her friend had sought her out in her quarters and she'd had the opportunity to thank him properly for what he had done for her. Although she still could not say that she understood what had moved him to do so. When she had asked him why he had taken all the blame for their little excursion upon himself he had merely shrugged and grinned.

"I was not going to do so," he had said, "but then my father's attitude provoked me and made me want to provoke him in return. I concluded that the role of the rebellious offspring would be an apt way to achieve this goal. I cannot say that I am very proud of my actions, though."

Tauriel had frowned. This was very much unlike Legolas, who never acted impulsively. To be honest, it sounded rather like something that she would do. "What could he possibly have said to anger you like this?" she had asked her friend.

She was curious to know, but Legolas had evaded her gaze and simply said, grinning, "You know how he can be, Tauriel. After several hundreds of years, even my patience wears thin at some point."

Tauriel had decided to leave the matter be right then, since he seemed unwilling to reveal more about the conversation with his father. And somehow she suspected that maybe she did not really want to hear the answer to her question anyway, that whatever Thranduil had said to Legolas had something to do with her.

Wandering over to the window at the far side of her room, she had gazed out at the treetops beyond. There were also rooms that did not sport such a spectacular view, rooms that were located deeper within the cave system and did thus not have any windows at all, but Tauriel had, upon her promotion to Captain of the Guard, specifically requested this room. She had made use of very few of the privileges that came with her position, but being able to see the stars at night from her own window had been too great a temptation to resist.

She had sighed quietly. At least this comfort was still hers now that she had lost the privilege to roam the woods freely as part of her punishment. Without this small illusion of freedom, she felt that she might wither like a flower that did not get enough light.

Legolas had come to stand next to her. "Once my father finally accepts that there is a darkness gathering strength somewhere out there and that it will not do to simply sit by and watch, but that someone will need to take action against it, I am sure that you will be returned to your former position immediately. You are one of our best fighters and Thranduil knows and appreciates this." He had nudged her gently. "As do I."

She had offered him a small smile. "Thank you. Do not worry, I understand that you did not have much of a choice, but to suggest my demotion to your father. And who knows. Maybe removing me from the guard for a while really is for the better…"

Legolas had frowned at that, surprised. "What do you mean? I thought you loved your position. The danger, the excitement, the freedom…"

Tauriel had hesitated. "I will surely miss the danger and the diversion… it is too much freedom that I am worried about. Too much room to do something impulsive—again," she had said haltingly. She had been thinking about how her heart was pulling her away from Mirkwood and how difficult it might become to resist the urges that were knotting up her insides.

Legolas had not seemed to understand the meaning behind her words initially, but when she had blushed slightly, ducking her head, she had seen that in his mind he was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together, slowly realizing that it had not just been her love of adventure and her hatred of orcs that had pulled her away from Mirkwood the first time and that it was not just the loss of most of her privileges that was tormenting her now, but rather the loss of something—someone—entirely different.

Before Legolas had time to fully understand what she had been implying, Tauriel had quickly distracted him with a question that had been bothering her ever since Legolas had taken the blame for their absence. "What about your own punishment?" she had asked. "Knowing your father, you cannot convince me that he would simply let you get away with what you claim to have done."

Legolas had blinked at the sudden change in topic, but had remained otherwise unmoved. "I do not yet know. But he gave me to understand that he would think of something. I suppose he will wait until some particularly unpleasant task arises and then put me in charge of it."

Yes, Tauriel had thought to herself, that sounded like something that Thranduil would do. He would wait until Legolas almost believed himself safe from any kind of punishment and then spring something onto him when he least expected it. "Well," she had said, "I will try my best to assist you with whatever that might turn out to be. That is the least that I can do."

"I'm sure it will be fine," Legolas had replied. "This, too, will be something that passes."

This reflected quite accurately the world view that most of their kind adopted at some stage in their lives. All things pass. Elves prevail. Comforting on the one hand, but also utterly sad if you looked at it with a different mindset.

Tauriel had sensed that Legolas wanted to discuss what she had hinted at previously, but she had simply not been ready to talk about it and even less to discuss her feelings. Maybe in a couple hundred of years.

She had put her hand on his lower arm. "Thank you, my friend, for stopping by," she had said, suddenly eager to end their conversation. "I am afraid I will have to leave you now, my shift is due to begin shortly. Being late would probably not exactly improve my current situation."

Legolas had smiled at her and wished her a good shift. Tauriel had however not missed the hint of worry in his eyes when he looked at her.

Once more Tauriel suppressed a sigh. Sooner or later she would have to face Legolas and tell him the truth. Or at least some parts of the truth–there were some things, such as kissing Kíli, which would remain her secret, sweet and treasured.

Suddenly Tauriel was torn from her thoughts by the giant wooden doors of the throne room flying open. Perplexed by the fact that something was actually happening, it took Tauriel a couple of seconds to remember where she was and more importantly why she was there.

Quickly she darted into the center of the room to position herself in front of the throne and her king. Thrandir – of course – had already taken up his stance when she got there and gave her a nasty look. Tauriel fervently hoped that the number of shifts she would have to serve together with this particular fellow would be limited to very few occasions.

Focusing on the task at hand, Tauriel quickly gestured for Maesson to step out of the way in order for her to get a clear aim at whoever had just burst into the throne room uninvited. Her grip on her bow was steady and she pulled back string and arrow, ready to shoot. Finally, she felt like there was something about her new position that she might truly excel at.

She slightly loosened the tension of her bowstring when she saw that the person bursting through the doors was merely an old man swaddled in layers of grey wool. Nevertheless, she kept her aim focused. Appearances could be deceiving after all.

The old man seemed unimpressed by the arrows pointed at him and strode into the room confidently, his gaze fixed onto Thranduil. A couple of feet in front of Tauriel and Thrandir, he stopped and bowed to their king. "Thranduil, old friend. It is good to see you," he said in the Elvish tongue, sounding as if they had just happened to meet on the roadside. Tauriel was not entirely sure, but she could have sworn that the old man winked at her as if they had just shared a private joke.

She kept her fixed on the strange man, still suspicious. However, she lowered her bow and took a step back when Thranduil came down from his throne and stepped around her and Thrandir to stand in front of the old man where he returned the bow.

"Mithrandir," he greeted him. "Our paths have not crossed for a long time. What brings you here so unexpectedly?"

Mithrandir. Tauriel knew the name. The Grey Wizard, also known as Gandalf the Grey. She looked at him curiously. Somehow, she had expected him to look different, more… impressive. But then again, that did not have to mean anything. As far as she knew he was very powerful—in his own way—and had frequently been of service to her people.

It did not escape Tauriel that while her king returned the wizard's greeting with friendliness, his tone also carried a fair amount of wariness. From what it seemed, this was not a social call.

Gandalf clasped Thranduil on the shoulder and started to lead him out of the throne room. "Take a walk with me my friend. My joints are stiff from riding for such a long time. There is a matter of great urgency that we need to discuss."

Thranduil went with him without resistance—which surprised Tauriel—but when they neared the doors he hesitated and looked back to where Tauriel and Thrandir were standing. Looking from one to the other for a moment, the king seemed to make up his mind and fixed his gaze on Tauriel. "Tauriel. Walk with us."

Her heart leapt—finally something to do other than standing around without any kind of diversion. She did wonder briefly why it was her that Thranduil had chosen to accompany them when Thrandir was so much more experienced at guarding the king and, frankly, was doing a much better job at it than she was. However, she was not about to argue with her king's choice.

Glancing briefly at Thrandir, who had a sour look on his face, Tauriel quickly went to her king's side and accompanied him and Gandalf into the corridor outside the throne room.