A/N

I am soooo sorry for keeping you waiting for so long. I was trying to figure out what the next step would be, concerning Várar and all. Should she stay with the dwarves, should she return back to Erebor? How would Thranduil feel about that?

So yeah... Anyway I have kept you waiting for long enough, so all I want to do, is to thank everyone who has left a review.

Never Fades Away

Sad blue eyes stare at a lone figure, standing near a simple grave. Her long auburn hair flowing in the icy wind, causing a shiver run over her spine visibly. Though winter is still a few months away, the temperature is already dropping. The grave had been almost impossible to dig. But as elvish burial customs, Tauriel had to be buried at the place she died.

Thranduil follows Várar's gaze to Ravenhill. Tauriel died at Ravenhill, protecting the youngest dwarf-prince from an orc. But seeing as Ravenhill is constructed of only rocks, the she-elf couldn't be buried over there. So she was laid to rest here, close to Erebor. Close to the dwarf she had fallen in love with.

Yes, Thranduil admits it. The she-elf had fallen in love with that dwarf. Just like his precious Várar has fallen in love with a dwarf. Though he knows he's not the centre of her thought at the moment, as he sees the silent tears cascade down her cheek. And it pains him to see his daughter so sad.

How come things have become so complicated in just so little time? With the coming of those dwarves he has lost his son and probably his daughter as well. He had always known he had to say farewell to Várar, but somewhere he had still hope that day would never come.

But looking at the broken female tells him it will soon be time for them to part ways. Gandalf had been right those years back. Várar does belong with her people and it makes him sad.

'My lord, we are ready for our departure.'

'Are we now?' Thranduil asks as his eyes remain on Várar. 'It seems to me one of us is not though.'

'My lord?'

Thranduil finally turns to look at the elf. His face stoic, his mind working over-time. Decisions need to be made right now. But what is he to do?

'I need to speak to Várar first, before we return back home.'

With that said, Thranduil walks over to Várar, his heart breaking at the sight of her broken spirit. Not long ago she had been full of life, wanting to seek adventure every change she got. Now she has grown somber, her eyes dull. Even when she looks at him, as he stops next to her, Thranduil can see the conflict in her eyes.

She doesn't know where she belongs anymore. Nor does she know what she wants. As a father he can read her eyes like a book. When she had been 25, Várar run away from home. Planning to leave the elves forever to join the dwarves. And now she fears she has nothing to return home to.

'I can still remember the day she can through the doors, cradling you in her arms,' Thranduil says after a long silence. 'She had been so afraid I had you send back to the nearest dwarvenkingdom. And truth to be told, I intended to do just that. But once I held you in my arms, I knew you belonged to me.'

Várar doesn't move as she keeps on staring at the grave before her. A lone tear rolling down her cheek as the icy wind gently blows over the open field.

'She was my friend.'

'I know she was. And you were hers as well.'

'Father, I don't understand. Why did she have to die? She was one of the best warriors!'

A sob escapes her throat as Várar clenches her fists in a mixture of anger and sadness. Even now it is still hard to accept the loss of Tauriel. And combined with the departure of Legolas Várar has become taken over by her grief.

'Tauriel died protecting the one she loved,' is his answer as he places his hand softly on her shoulder. Yes she had loved that dwarf, Thranduil will no longer deny it. Though it is too late for that now. 'And if it had been you, she would have done the same.'

Várar lets his words sink in for a moment, pondering the over. Then her eyes widen in shock in realisation. Kíli is a very powerful warrior, who Várar doubts she can match. And he had been badly injured. And though Várar is a warrior as well, Tauriel had always been the better one. Could that be the reason why Thranduil had send her away? Because he knew she would have died if she had stayed?

More tears fall down as she realises something else. If that is the case, then Tauriel would have died either way.

'At least she will forever face the stars now. Now come, my child. I still have some unfinished business to settle with the king under the mountain.'

Without a word, Várar takes one last look at the resting place of her dearest friend. Then she follows her father.

Quick footsteps are heard as she quickly walks through the hallway. The lose strands of her thick dark hair flowing behind her. A message has just arrived for her. But whether it will bring good news or bad, she does not know yet.

'Bring me the letter,' her booming voice sounds as she enters the great hall.

It has been months since she has last heard from the small company. The last news she had received, had been at the beginning of the journey. Telling her they were trying to reclaim the mountain with just the thirteen of them, a wizard and a hobbit as their burglar. That they were going to sneak into Erebor to retrieve the Arkenstone. But from that moment on, Dís hasn't received any more letters.

Her hands tremble as she opens the letter. What will it say? Will it bring good news? Did they succeed? Or will it bring sad news? Either way, the handwriting isn't that of her brother, nor is it that of her sons. Does that mean they had been unable to write? But why?

Does that mean...

No! She mustn't let such thoughts cross her mind!

Instead Dís begins reading, her eyes scanning over the words. The dead of the dragon is the first thing she reads, Erebor now belonging to the dwarves again. But the journey has taken longer than anticipated, for they had trouble with orcs and been held prison by the elves.

A gasp escapes her throat as she reads about a battle between many races. A battle with many losses, though they had come out victorious. Still Kíli had been badly injured and Thorin had almost been killed.

'They are alive,' she whispers softly as realisation sinks in. 'Erebor is ours again!'

This time she raises her voice for all to hear the news. Erebor is once again their. After all those years, the mountain will be their home once more! Her eyes scan over the letter once more, silently thanking Balin for his letter.

She frowns as she rereads a line she doesn't understand. We have found someone I think you would love to meet. What does Balin mean by that? She lets herself ponder over it for a moment, but then decides it isn't important at the moment.

Thorin, Fíli and Kíli are alive and that is all that matters!

Home, what a strange word indeed. Her whole life Várar had thought Mirkwood to be her home. Her heart had felt at peace and the only moment of doubt had been when the wandering wizard had told her about her true identity. But that had been long ago.

But now, as she walks through these halls of Erebor, she experiences an odd feeling of being home. But how can that be?

She looks at her father as she follows him through the halls, a company of elves surrounding her. But also blocking her view as well. Only a quick glimps of his robes can be seen every now and then. His finest robes – it is beyond her how he even got those so quickly.

What business does her father has with Thorin anyway, that is so important for the both of them to be all dressed up? She looks down at her own dress, the blue and white fabric flowing elegantly with each step she takes. It has been a while since Várar has worn a dress and she has missed it quite a bit. It feels more... proper for a princess.

Still, with the passed events still on her mind, she can't help but feel overdressed. Still she had restrained herself from asking questions when her father had given her the dress. A new velvet dress for the cold winter ahead.

As they enter the throne room, Várar catches a glimps of a couple of dwarves, dressed in their casual attire. Then her eyes travel back to her father's silver robes and the golden armour of the elf-guards. They are indeed overdressed and Várar sighs.

'Lord Thranduil,' she hears the deep voice of Thorin say. 'I thought you would have left already.'

Does she detect a hint of annoyance in his voice?

'I would have, if there it hadn't been for some unfinished business, my lord,' Thranduil answers, after a small bow.

'Then state your business, for I have a kingdom to rebuild,' the king replies coldly. 'I do not have time to deal with business of and elfking.'

From between two guards Várar can see Thorin glare at her father, who in his turn seems unfazed by his cold glare. She has to admit Thorin has a point. From what Fíli has told her, the dwarves from Ered Luin will set for the mountain next spring. And with winter coming soon, they have little time to waste to restore their kingdom.

Still she is curious to what her father has to say. And what his business has to do with her. For Várar is no fool. Why else is she all dressed up, but hidden behind the guards? But the question is why.

'I am sure you can find some time for my business, Thorin.' Várar can practically hear the smirk in his voice as her father answers the king. 'But I will come straight to the point then, to spare you some time. You have something that belongs to my people.'

Something that sounds like a snort comes from somewhere near Thorin, though Várar can't see who it was. Still Thranduil continues.

'And for many decennia there has been a disagreement of to whom the jewels belong to.'

'Our people made the white gems of Lasgalen many years ago, as ordered by the elvenking at that time,' Thorin agrees. 'But your people never payed for them, so the gems rightfully belong to the dwarves!'

'And what if I were to offer you a deal? One you cannot resist, I am sure of it.'

There is some whispering between the dwarves, before Thorin finally tells Thranduil to continue. Now Várar has become even more curious. Her father is convinced the gems are and heirloom of his people, so why offer Thorin a deal?

'The white gems are to stay here, in Erebor. But only if worn by the only one worthy of their beauty.'

With that said, Thranduil steps aside, along with two guards, revealing Várar. The dwarrowdam gasps in surprise as she realises what her father is implying. But why would he do that? Doesn't he love her anymore? Is he still mad at her for releasing the dwarves? Or for disobeying him?

Is this her punishment? Being banished! But why? All she tried to do, was help the innocent!

Tears start to form in her eyes as she stares at her father. She is so confused as she looks into his eyes. For he doesn't look at her with anger in his eyes. Instead all she can see is the love he had always shown.

'I-I,' Várar stammers, looking from her father to Thorin and back again. But no words will come as she stares at her father. 'Ada, I don't understand. Why?'

Without waiting for his answer, she turns around. Várar can feel the tears start to fall as she picks up the skirt of her dress, before running away. How can he do that? Why would he do that? He is her father! He can't just toss her aside just like that! He shouldn't!

'I would love to accept your offer,' Thorin begins as he watches the leaving form of Várar. 'But it seems lady Várar wasn't aware of this offer and deserves to have a say in this as well.'

With that said, the king dismissed the elvenking. If Várar is to live in Erebor, it will be her own decision, not because she has to.

'Have I done something wrong for you to send me away just like that?'

Várar doesn't need to turn to know who is standing behind her. His presence alone a dead giveaway. But she refuses to turn around and look at him. Her sadness now turned into betrayal and anger.

'Do not think I am sending you away, my gwilwileth,' Thranduil says gently as he stares over the grey scenery. 'I am doing what I think is best for you.'

'And why is this the best for me?' Várar snaps, turning her head to look up at the tall elf. 'First you sent Legolas off to find some ranger up in the north. And now... And now you are leaving me behind.' Again tears start to fall down as she looks away. 'Why? Why are you sending us from your side?'

'Legolas was in need of a scenery change,' Thranduil says, the sadness in his voice audible. 'He was in love with Tauriel and he couldn't cope with her passing. I thought it would be a wise decision if he had his own adventure to get his mind of certain things.'

A hand appears in front of her, as Thranduil extends his hand for her to take. She hesitates for a moment, before accepting it, letting him pull her to her feet. Looking up at her father, he is smiling sadly at her. She can still see the love he holds for her. But still, she is so confused.

'As for you,' Thranduil continues, as he starts to walk, her arm linked with his. 'I knew there would once come a day where we had to say our goodbyes. As the mithrandir had said long ago, you belong with your people. And I really mean your people.

Your mother hailed from Erebor, so this is where you belong. You will always be my gwilwileth, Várar. Always. But like every father, the day has come to let you go. I do care for you, which is why I have made this decision. Which hasn't been an easy one to make,' he adds with a weak smile. 'But I can see it in your eyes, my dearest. You have a longing in your eyes as you look around. You are drawn to the mountain, and you should. You are, after all, a dwarf.'

Várar looks away from Thranduil, to look at the said mountain. He is right. She can't deny the strange feeling of belonging here. She has had this feeling when she had entered and that feeling hasn't left ever since. But still, her home is in Mirkwood. With her father and brother and...

And there no longer is a home with Legolas and Tauriel to return to, she realises yet again. And what is home without the ones she loves?

'But what if I won't fit in,' Várar asks after a long silence, finally realising her real objections. 'What if – what if I feel all alone?'

Thranduil smiles knowingly as he stops, kneeling down to look her in the eyes.

'You will never be alone,' he says as he caress her cheek. 'For I will always be with you. Just like Legolas. And even Tauriel. For we will always be in your heart. All you have to do, is close your eyes and we'll be with you.'

'I know. But-but that's not the same, ada!' Várar says as she closes her eyes. She doesn't want to leave her father's side. She needs to have her father near. 'They won't understand me. What if they see me as an elf? For that is what you have raised me as, an elf.'

'Gwilgwileth, have you seen the way you are fitting in right now? They all see you as a dwarf, all of them.'

He is right, she knows he is. Father is always right. Well, no. Perhaps not always, but he does what is best for her. He had warned her about the dwarves. He had warned her to stay away from them, for he had known she would end up feeling torn.

But still. What if he is wrong about this? What if this isn't what is best for her?

'But...,' she needs to think. She has to make her point that she just can't stay here. 'But what if I am going to miss you? What if...'

'Oh Várar,' Thranduil sighs as he looks at the young dwarrowdam.

She isn't making things easier for him. Why can't she see that he is doing this for her? If it were him, Thranduil would have left the mountain already. Taking Várar with him to never have her leave his side. Never. But it is for Várar he has made this difficult decision.

'You try to see only the negative. Try to see the positive side of things. Of course you will miss me, and I will miss you too. But see this as an adventure of your own.'

'But father, you'll be so far away.'

Thranduil chuckles slightly. She is frightened to leave her family behind, though she is making it by her stubbornness. But this is the right thing to do. To have her leave his side and start living her own life.

'Even though I can't always be near you, doesn't mean I'm not here. Our love is strong and binds our souls together. That is something that will never fade away. Besides, Mirkwood is not even half a day from Erebor,' Thranduil adds. 'You are always welcome, for Mirkwood will always remain your home as well. But the time has come for you to return to your own kind.'

And that's it for now. Again, I am sorry for keeping you all waiting.

What will happen now? Will Várar agree? Will she obey Thranduil and stay behind? Will she follow him back home? And how will she cope with the different culture, were she to stay?

Anyway, I hope you still like the story and how it progresses.