The next morning comes and goes, all with Tauriel sleeping off her bottle of wine uninterrupted. When she finally wakes, the light streaming in her room tells her it is late afternoon.
She rubs the sleep from her eyes and stretches her aching muscles.
Pain comes flooding back with the memories of all she's lost and she finds herself wishing she were still asleep.
Eyeing her nightstand, Tauriel sighs at the empty bottled laying on its side.
Forcing herself to move, she crosses to the door and peeks outside. A guard is standing to the left of her door, different from the ones who traveled with her.
Her sudden appearance startles him, but he comes to attention quickly.
"Is there something you need, Captain?" he asks.
"N— actually, yes," she says, deciding to test her luck. "I require more wine."
The guard does not reply and Tauriel slinks back into her room, knowing it was a long shot.
Despite the waning sun, the room feels far too bright.
How does the world carry on when mine has ended? She wonders bitterly, storming around the room and drawing all of the curtains closed.
Will this pain fade? Or will I feel like this the rest of my immortal life?
Panic seizes her and her heart thuds painfully against her ribs.
Tauriel slumps onto the edge of her bed, hand clutching her chest, and tries to calm her ragged breathing.
Kili.
The tears come once more, streaking down her face, silent but for her labored breath.
It is my fault. If you hadn't tried to save me…
There is a knock on her door, and before Tauriel can summon the words to order them gone, a servant enters carrying a large platter.
"Your dinner, Captain," the maid says, giving her a concerned glance as she sets the tray on the desk.
Unable to speak, Tauriel gestures the young woman away, refusing to meet her eyes as the maid leaves.
Why have I not yet been summoned?
She cannot fathom why she is being left in her rooms to await punishment. Not that she is eager to be punished, but to feel anything aside from what she feels now will be a relief.
Perhaps that is why I have not been summoned. My King knows I am suffering. Or perhaps he is just trying to be dramatic by keeping me in suspense.
Another thought occurs to her, that maybe he is tied up in tending to their dead and wounded, and a trial for a disobedient captain of the guard is not a high priority.
Whatever the reason, she decides she does not care. Especially once she spots the new bottle of wine on her dinner tray.
Completely ignoring the food, and once again a glass, Tauriel grabs the new bottle of wine and returns to bed.
She sits with her back pressed to the headboard, blankets piled around her in a cocoon, and watches as her room slips into blackness, pulling her with it.
X
War is a messy business… and a tragic one.
Thranduil finds himself almost drowning in all of his duties in the weeks following the battle. One hundred and thirty-seven members of his army perished in the fight.
One hundred and thirty-seven, he thinks, his stomach rolling.
Men and dwarves scoff, thinking one hundred and thirty-seven casualties out of the two thousand troops he sent to fight is a victory.
Of course they would. Those who are born with the axe named 'mortality' over their head do not think twice of those who perish in battle for a just cause.
Thranduil cannot stop thinking of those he lost, though. Each of their names are forever burned into his memory. How could he forget any of those he doomed to a death they otherwise would never have seen?
One hundred and thirty-seven immortal souls now extinguished, and all under my watch… for a handful of jewels.
In addition to the sorrow he feels for those lost, Thranduil also feels guilt. Guilt because he is still grateful for what was finally accomplished.
His hand slips into the inner pocket of his robe and he traces his fingers across his prize. Stroking the jewels as if they were a talisman, which, in a way they are.
It has been a long day of sorting out funerary details for those lost, and he is grateful to have a moment's peace. While his soldiers have already been laid to rest, there is work going into erecting a monument in their honor and he is having a difficult time settling the final details.
He lounges in his council room, closes his eyes, and imagines slipping away for a ride in the moonlight. The image doesn't last long; both due to the sad memory of his elk, Linor, being lost, and the footsteps he hears echoing down the stairs.
"Yes?" he asks, voice cool and weary.
"Your Majesty, I am sorry to trouble you," one of his aides begins.
Thranduil sighs and opens his eyes, staring at the unusually short elf before him.
"What is it, Nimmon?"
Flustered at hearing his name spoken so dismissively, the elf rushes to speak, not wishing to impose longer than necessary.
"It is Tauriel, your Majesty. I did not wish to burden you, but her maid informs me she has not eaten since her return to the palace. All of her trays are left untouched," he explains. "We… don't know what to do."
Thranduil's head cocks to the side and his expression grows cold.
"She has not eaten in two weeks and you just now bring me this information?"
"I—I'm sorry, your Majesty. We didn't— didn't think—"
"No, you did not."
Thranduil rises from his seat and strides past the aide.
"I will handle the situation from here, as it is apparently beyond you," he says. Then as an afterthought, "send Tauriel's maid to her chambers.
Priding himself for knowing his castle inside and out, Thranduil heads straight to Tauriel's room, despite never having actually been there. Several servants stumble and bow, surprised to see him in this part of the palace, but he ignores them.
There is a guard standing outside her door, just as he'd instructed. While no doubt surprised to see the King, the guard hides her surprise well and comes to attention at his approach.
Thranduil juts his chin at the door and the guard immediately opens it, not bothering to knock. The King does not need to knock.
When he enters, his nose crinkles. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and sickness. The curtains and windows are closed, and there is no light in the room.
Purposefully he marches across the room and tears the blinds open, filling the room with the light of the setting sun.
There is a groan from the bed and the clink of bottles as the mattress shifts.
"I said keep them closed," a voice mumbles from under a mound of blankets.
"Tauriel, rise," Thranduil commands, approaching the edge of her bed.
She pops straight up in bed, her hair wild and matted, and tries to focus her eyes on him in the unfamiliar light.
"M—My King," she stammers, flinging the blankets back.
She tosses her legs over the side of the bed and sends two wine bottles crashing to the floor. Thranduil eyes them with distaste. When Tauriel tries to stand she must grow dizzy, for she topples forward catching herself by grabbing onto Thranduil's arm.
She lets go as if burned and tries to right herself, swaying dangerously.
"Forgive me," she murmurs, eyes still unfocused.
He studies her, taking in her haggard appearance. It's clear she has not bathed since her return, and her starvation is becoming evident as well. Her high cheekbones are more pronounced than ever, and her eyes are sunken and bloodshot.
"I have come to invite you to dine with me this evening," he says walking to the end of the bed once he's certain she will not fall again.
She blinks slowly, trying to form a coherent reply.
"While I do appreciate—" she begins, but he cuts her off.
"When I said 'invite' I was being unclear. This is not a request."
"I— yes, my King."
Thranduil turns on heel and strides out of the room, passing Tauriel's maid as he does so.
"Make sure she is bathed, and appropriately dressed," he tells the woman, and then continues on his way.
Author's Note: First of all, wow! I have to say, considering how little I can find of this pairing I am surprised by the warm reception I've received so far, thank you. All of your reviews are greatly appreciated. I love knowing there are others actively shipping these two. Second, not all chapters will be this short, I was just eager to post another one! You can expect updates at least once a week on this fic, but honestly I am loving writing it so much it could be more often.
On another note, I like to practice my (beginner) photoshop skills by making graphics for my ships. If you are interested I made a Tauriel/Thranduil wallpaper today, and you can find the link from my profile.