Chapter VIII

Once outside, Tauriel trailed along behind Thranduil and Gandalf, maintaining a respectful distance, but also taking care to stay close enough to hear what they were saying.

"Tell me," Thranduil spoke up after walking in silence for a couple of seconds, "what is this urgent matter that we need to discuss?"

Gandalf looked at him from out of the corner of his eye, as if trying to assess Thranduil's mood. "I believe that you have met Thorin Oakenshield and his company of dwarves recently."

Thranduil huffed. "If by 'met' you refer to a good dozen of unruly dwarves trespassing on my land, refusing to negotiate, escaping through our wine cellar and, from what I can judge, leading orcs into our territory, then yes, we have met."

The old wizard seemed to have difficulty to suppress a smile, but then his face quickly turned serious again. "Then you are also aware of the quest on which Thorin has led his kinsmen?"

"Ending the reign of the dragon over Erebor? Yes, I am aware of that. And from what I hear they succeeded in that. At the cost of the citizens of Lake-town."

Gandalf decided to ignore the last part of Thranduil's statement, spoken with bitter resentment. "The dwarves have reclaimed Erebor, yes. I have now come here to urge you to make peace with the dwarves—and quickly."

Tauriel's heart missed a beat. This sounded very much as if they were all alive and well!

Thranduil stopped dead in his tracks. "If that is so, then your journey here has been in vain. Thorin Oakenshield has demonstrated more than once that he has learned nothing from the sins of his grandfather. Not only was he unwilling to enter into any kind of negotiations with my people but has also insulted me most severely." His face turned angry at the mere remembrance of the encounter with Thorin.

The wizard halted in his steps as well and turned to face Thranduil. "I understand that your pride has been injured greatly by the actions of Thorin and his ancestors. I also understand that dwarves can be insufferably stubborn and that their ways will never agree with you." His gaze darkened and he looked at Thranduil almost threateningly. "But what is happening right now, right in front of your doorstep, is of so much more consequence than this strife between Elves and dwarves. Thranduil, there is a darkness out there which is gathering strength and you know this."

Thranduil evaded Gandalf's gaze. The wizard went on.

"You know the kind of darkness that I am speaking of. A darkness that can pull all of Middle Earth into ruin. You also know that evil such as this can only be conquered if the forces of Men, Elves and Dwarves unite against it."

Thranduil looked at him once more. "And how do you propose to achieve such unity?" He turned his back towards the old wizard and took a few steps. "You speak of my pride, but you forget that Oakenshield is proud, too. And more so, he hates my kin with passion. He could never become loyal to me and my people. We could never trust him and the ones that follow him."

Gandalf approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. Tauriel was surprised. She had never seen anybody acting so … intimately around Thranduil. At least not without being reprimanded for it.

"That is why it is you who must take the first step," he urged Thranduil. "The dwarves believe themselves safe at Erebor and I fear that Thorin might soon begin making the same mistakes as his grandfather and father before him instead of making peace with both Men and Elves. But he is not aware of the storm that is brewing. An army of goblins and all other sorts of vile creatures is preparing to descend upon Erebor from the West."

Tauriel gasped. Both her king and the wizard turned their heads to look at her, the wizard in surprise, Thranduil in annoyance. She quickly straightened her features and stared straight ahead. Inside her, however, a storm was raging.

Gandalf continued after this interruption. "Help Thorin and his kin defend themselves. I am certain that the men of Lake-town will follow your example and this will be the first step to mend the rift between Elves and Dwarves, Dwarves and Men. This will earn you Thorin's trust and loyalty."

"I do not have to earn anything from Thorin Oakenshield," Thranduil spat. "It is his kin that has wronged mine in the first place, not the other way round."

Tauriel felt a familiar anger swelling inside of her. How many times did her king have to be told of the danger that was threatening not only their home, but all of Middle Earth? How many would have to die before he finally realized that hiding in Mirkwood would simply not do anymore?

Anger was joined by desperation. Kíli. What if, this time, he would be one of the ones who lost their lives because, instead of helping, her king preferred to sit back and watch? She knew that the dwarves were experienced and vicious fighters. But from the way that the grey wizard made it sound, they did not stand a chance against the army that was coming for them.

Gandalf relented when he realized that he had pushed the Elvenking too far. "I did not mean to imply that you owed the dwarves anything. I apologize if you got that impression."

Thranduil inclined his head, acknowledging the wizard's apology. Yet, when he spoke, his voice was cold. "You have always been a good counselor to my poeple and I respect and value your opinion. However, I fear that in this particular instance, you are wrong. Oakenshield has already destroyed any possibility for an alliance between our people, as have his father and grandfather before him. I am not willing to risk my own life or that of my people in order to help the dwarf. Them getting ambushed by a goblin army might turn out to be what is best for all of us."

"No!" Tauriel exclaimed, simply not able to hold back any longer. It felt as if a giant's hand were wrapping itself around her midsection, squeezing, making it difficult to breathe. She felt dizzy, her blood rushing in her ears.

The wizard and the king turned towards her once more, Gandalf's eyebrows arched. He looked at her with open curiosity. Thranduil, on the other hand, kept his head slightly down and only glared at her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Tauriel!" He said, keeping his voice level, but Tauriel could tell from his stance that he was angry. "You are obviously unable to restrain yourself. Leave us."

"But—" she began, and immediately realized that she should not have said anything.

"Go!" Thranduil cut her off, his voice rising dangerously. This was as close as he would get to shouting.

Tauriel flinched and turned on her heel before she could do something stupid. She stormed off into the direction of her private quarters, passing Thrandir at the doors to the throne room. He looked at her questioningly, but she simply rushed past him, too upset to deal with him right now.

Stumbling into her room, she slammed the door shut behind her. For a few moments, she merely stood in the center of the room with her eyes closed, clenching and unclenching her fists while she fought to regain her composure. Once her heartbeat had slowed and the pounding in her ears had ebbed away, she opened her eyes.

Looking out of the big window she gazed at the trees outside. This was the place she had come to call home after her family had been so cruelly taken from her when she was still very young. Legolas had become her brother and Thranduil, although he had always maintained a careful distance, her father.

In her mind's eye she could see herself and Legolas run through the woods just outside her window as young Elves, playful, happy, climbing every tree within their reach, already practicing some of the skills that would later distinguish them as some of the greatest warriors among their people.

Now there were no young elflings tumbling through the woods. Her beloved home had become a dark, dangerous place, infested with monstrous spiders and who knew what other evil creatures.

How could a king who was supposed to love his people and his kingdom let this happen? Thranduil was blinded by hate and pride, greed and loss. For so many years she had wished that she could make him see again, but now she realized that this might never happen at all.

But what did this mean for her? What was one to do when everything was coming apart and there was nothing to believe in anymore?

No, that was not entirely true, Tauriel thought to herself. She had found something new to believe in. Hatred and animosity could be overcome. People could learn to look beyond their own prejudices and find something new, something wonderful. She had experienced this herself, had felt it from the first moment she had laid eyes on Kíli. It did not matter whether you were a Dwarf or an Elf. She and Kíli had formed a bond despite the beliefs that they had both been raised with.

I have seen people reach out to one another in times of hardship in ways that you could not imagine. Building friendship where before there was only animosity, building a future where before there was only emptiness and indifference. Sometimes it is in times of great despair that we realize what we truly want and that we find the strength to create something new.

The words of Kíli's mother echoed in Tauriel's mind. Was this such a time? Was it time to reach out to one another despite the obstacles that separated them? Maybe she and Kíli could show their people that there was not only hatred and distrust to be found between Elves and Dwarves. The thought was inspiring, uplifting... Maybe there was a way for them to be together after all. Maybe it had been wrong to think that in order to do the right thing, they would have to part. Maybe it was the other way round…

But Tauriel also had to admit that those thoughts filled her not only with happiness and longing but also with a paralyzing fear. If she chose this path now there would be no turning back. Her people—and her king most of them all—might turn against her, their forgiveness forever out of reach. Was she truly ready to take such drastic measures? And what if, a tiny, insecure voice spoke up in her head, what if Kíli would not have her after all? Was she a fool to think that she could simply go to Erebor and be accepted by the dwarves, fight side by side against a common enemy?

Tauriel stood in the middle of her room, frozen in place, running the same thoughts over and over again in her head for a long time. When she became aware of her surroundings once more, she was surprised to see that dusk had fallen over the woods outside her window.

Her mind was now very calm. For the first time since the day the dwarves had escaped from their cells, her thoughts did not spin around her head in endless circles, making her unfocused and slightly dizzy. She knew now what path to choose.

Turning around on her heel, she strode to a chest in a corner across the room. Out of this chest she pulled a small satchel, into which she stuffed a couple of provisions. Lembas bread, a water flask, a silver locket which had belonged to her mother, a change of clothes. Reaching into the chest again, she retrieved the rune stone Kíli had given to her and which she had hidden there. Smiling faintly, she caressed the runes carved into it with her thumb.

I'm coming, Kíli. Are you waiting for me?

The stone went into her shirt pocket. To feel its weight against her chest was oddly comforting.

She strapped the small bag onto her back and pulled her moss green, hooded traveling cloak over it. Letting her gaze wander about her room, she made sure that there was nothing she was leaving behind that mattered to her. After all, she would not be coming back.

Assured that she had packed everything that she wanted to take with her, she turned around and reached for her bow.

A hand on her arm stilled her movements. Shocked, she looked up to see Legolas standing next to her, looking worried, hurt, exasperated.

"I—I did not hear you come in," she stammered, unable to say anything else as she felt all blood drain from her face.

Legolas maintained his grip onto her, his hand firm and steady on her forearm. "Yes," he replied. "I see that you were too busy running away to notice. Again."

Tauriel looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Legolas, I know what this looks like, but you have to understand…"

"I am afraid that I cannot. Because you refuse to explain. Ever since the day of the orc attack you have been acting impulsively, foolishly, for reasons that I cannot entirely fathom."

Tauriel flinched at the anger which laced his voice. "But you see, your father, he won't—"

"Yes, Tauriel," he interrupted her, "I am fully aware of what transpired between you and my father this afternoon. I came straight here when I heard because I feared that you might be making some rash decisions. I am sorry to observe that I was right."

Tauriel hung her head low. She had disappointed Legolas once more. He wanted to hear the complete truth from her, but she feared that the truth would not improve his current opinion of her. There had to be another way to make him understand.

"Legolas," she pleaded, "don't you see that what both you and I feared is about to happen? A great battle is about to break out on our doorstep, a battle in which many good people will lose their lives. A darkness is slowly spreading across Middle Earth—I thought we agreed that it will not do to merely sit by and watch chaos unfold."

"Yes," her oldest friend replied, still not letting go of her wrist. "And we won't."

Tauriel blinked. "I do not understand. What is it that you speak of?"

Legolas finally let go of her arm and sighed, turning to look out of her window at the darkening sky. "Of me going to Erebor. My father is sending me there with an army. To fight."

Tauriel's face lit up at his words. Maybe there was a way for her to follow her heart without ripping the bond that tied her to her people, her home, her substitute family.

"Then the king changed his mind?"

Legolas seemed to weigh that question in his mind. "I suppose you could say so. Although I fear he has some ulterior motive in mind, one that has nothing to do with forming alliances."

"Does that really matter?" Tauriel was happy. "As long as we can go and finally do something, I will try not to worry about what comes after."

She suddenly noticed how Legolas was evading her eyes. "What? Why aren't you looking at me?"

Then Legolas delivered the blow that Tauriel should have known was coming. "Tauriel, I said I am going to Erebor. Not we. I'm sorry, but you are to stay here. My father specifically said so. I think he—I'm afraid he does not trust your judgment anymore. I'm sorry."

Tauriel stared at him for a couple of seconds, not really knowing what to say. Then she nodded to herself and reached for her bow once more. "Well, then I hope you will understand why I have to leave like this and will let me do so."

Legolas moved to block her way to the door, angry now. "No, I don't understand. Why is it that your mind is set on destroying everything that you have here? Everything that we have? Why can't you just accept the circumstances as they are right now and let this go?"

She did not respond to him, but cast her eyes down instead.

His voice turned softer, almost pleading. "I promise to fight in that battle for both of us. I will slay every foe that is foolish enough to step within the range of my bow. And I will come back to you, unharmed, and everything can be as it once was."

Tauriel bit on her lower lip, furrowing her brow in sorrow. "No, it cannot," she whispered.

Legolas stepped closer, taking hold of both her upper arms, forcing her to look up at him. "Why, Tauriel?"

She merely looked at him, tears burning in her eyes. Tears for Kíli because every fiber of her being longed to be at his side. Tears for Legolas because she had to disappoint him—him whose opinion mattered most to her. Tears for herself because she was about to give up everything.

"It's that young dwarf, isn't it?" Legolas suddenly said. His expression grew sullen when she did not bother to deny it right away. "You want him."

"Kíli," Tauriel said. "His name is Kíli." She could not help but smile ever so slightly when she realized that she was echoing Kíli's words to Legolas when their paths had crossed in Lake-town.

Apparently, that was all Legolas needed as a confirmation. He dropped his hands and took a step back, turning away slightly. "Yes, I feared something like this." His voice sounded resigned, though not as angry as Tauriel might have expected.

He raised his eyes to her face once more, not quite meeting her gaze. "Then there is no way I can persuade you to stay here with my father?"

Tauriel smiled sadly. "I'm afraid not," she replied, her voice choked with unspilled tears.

Legolas looked at her for a couple of seconds, not saying anything. Then he sighed. "If there is no way to hold you back then I would rather have you come with me than go alone. To fight by your side one more time before we say goodbye."

Tauriel gaped at him. "Does that mean…?"

He nodded. "Yes. You will come with us. We will have to be very careful and disguise you so that you will not be recognized until it is too late to send you back."

Tauriel smiled a tearful smile, touched by her friend's loyalty despite the broken heart that he surely had to be nursing right now. "Thank you. Once again you humble me with your generosity and kindness."

Legolas returned her smile with obvious reluctance. "There is one condition though."

Tauriel raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

"I know that you never took your time to rest after our return. I have watched you at mealtimes, observing your lack of appetite. I cannot be responsible for leading you into a battle in such a weakened state. Sit down with me for one last meal. And rest afterwards to regain your strength. We are due to leave at first daylight, so there is still plenty of time."

Tauriel was taken aback. "Oh, well… I can do that, I suppose?" she said. What else was she supposed to reply to that?

Legolas's face brightened. "Excellent! Wait for me here, will you? I will go down to the kitchens and fetch some food and wine for us."

Tauriel nodded and he turned to leave. With his hand already on the doorknob, Tauriel thought she saw him hesitate briefly. But then he opened the door and stepped through, closing it behind him.

Tauriel sank down on one of the two wooden chairs at the small table near her window and looked about herself in slight confusion. What was Legolas trying to achieve? She knew him well and suspected that maybe he had not yet given up trying to persuade her to stay behind after all. Or … was he maybe trying to win her over? To win her heart?

She shook her head to get rid of these silly thoughts. He had just shown her great generosity and loyalty. She had no right and no reason him. And as long as he provided her with a way to join in the battle—a way that was much more honorable than stealing away in the middle of the night—she was willing to meet any condition that he might impose.

Quickly—almost too quickly—Legolas returned with a silver tray laden with fruit, bread, and cheese. He was balancing the tray carefully in order not to spill the wine from the two silver goblets that had been placed next to the food.

He swiftly laid everything out on the table and sat down across from her, studying her intently. His tone serious he spoke, "I promise this will be the last time that I ask you this, but are you quite certain that you mean to go through with this? That it is really necessary to take such drastic steps?"

Tauriel nodded without hesitation. She was surprised herself at the sudden clarity with which she was making her decisions and replied in a calm voice, "I am, my friend. I can no longer delude myself into thinking that this is something that will pass if I just wait long enough and do nothing."

Legolas nodded gravely. He raised his goblet. "Then let us drink to…"

He paused, apparently unsure of what to say.

"Let us drink to friendship, my dearest friend," Tauriel continued for him, raising her cup to his.

Legolas hesitated for a split second, which worried Tauriel, but then he clinked his glass against hers, locking eyes with her, and replied, "Yes, to friendship. To us."

Tauriel smiled, even though she was made slightly uncomfortable by the intensity of his gaze. Casting her eyes down she took a deep drink from her goblet, relishing in the warmth that spread swiftly in her belly. The delicious wine certainly was something that she would miss about Mirkwood.

Looking back up at Legolas, she found that he was looking at her intently, his goblet still in his hand, filled to the brink. She wanted to ask him why he did not drink from it, but there seemed to be something wrong with her mouth, her tongue heavy as lead.

Frowning, she tried to lift her hand to her mouth to touch it, to see if there was something the matter with it. But her hand refused to move, all she managed was a slight twitch of her fingers. She tried to speak again, but to no greater effect than before.

She looked at Legolas in panic, wanting to tell him that she was in trouble and that he needed to help her, needed to fetch someone who could make her well again. She found it surprisingly difficult to focus her eyes, but when she finally managed to do so, she saw that Legolas was still looking at her with that same, curious expression.

She let her eyes drop to the goblet of wine in front of her, a terrible realization dawning at the back of her mind. She could not quite pinpoint what this realization was for a moment—her head felt as if it had been stuffed with soft, fluffy cotton.

With great effort she managed to concentrate hard enough to form a coherent though. He poisoned me. Put something in my drink. Something to make me sleep. Cannot move now. So tired.

Helpless to do something against it, she felt herself slide off her chair. Legolas was there to catch her and all she could do was stare at him in outrage as he carried her to her bed where he set her down carefully and covered her with a soft, silky sheet.

She wanted to scream at him, to beat at him with her fists, protest somehow against this grave injustice that was being done to her. But her eyelids felt so heavy and she felt herself drift off, a feeling that she was not quite used to, always so very much in control of herself and her senses.

The last thing that she saw and heard was Legolas, her friend who had deceived her so, leaning over her, speaking in a strained voice. "I am sorry, my friend. I hope that one day you will forgive me for this and understand that I only meant well. That of all beings in this world, you are the one who matters most to me and that because of this I had no other choice."

The last thing she thought was, I'm sorry, Kíli. It looks as if I won't be seeing you so soon after all.

Then everything went black.