The next morning dawn arrives to find Tauriel staring blankly down at her lap. Her face expressionless, and shoulders slumped in defeat.
Those around you are not safe, her mind whispers to her. You are cursed, destroying the lives of all you touch.
Your parents; dead. Kili; dead. Legolas; running from home.
She hears someone whistling jauntily, and involuntarily looks up to see Erwarth striding towards her, wooden bowl in hand.
"Breakfast," he tells her, holding the bowl to her mouth.
The smell of whatever is in it, although not quite appetizing, causes her stomach to grumble loudly.
Tauriel shakes her head in refusal, despite her aching hunger.
"Come on," Erwarth growls. "You don't have to make everything so difficult."
"Him," she croaks, barely parting her lips lest he try to force-feed her. "Him first."
She looks over at Grond, watching the way his head sways, and his lips mumble unheard musings.
"He's a waste of resources," Erwarth counters.
"Why are you keeping me alive?" Tauriel asks, finally voicing the thought that has plagued her since she heard she was not to be harmed.
"Because I'm being ordered to. Now eat."
"You need me for something… or somebody does."
"I've not got time for this. You will eat this willingly, or I will force it down your throat," he threatens.
"I'll make you a deal."
Erwarth scoffs, and shakes his head, clearly not believing the gall of her.
"You are not exactly in a position to be making deals," he reminds her.
"You need me for something. You need me unharmed. What if I promise to do as you say? Not to act up or defy your orders? I'll eat when you tell me to eat, drink when you tell me to drink, and be quiet when you tell me not to speak."
He doesn't answer. Staring at her, bored.
"I'll also promise not harm myself," she adds. "All it would take is a couple good strikes of my head against this wooden post when no one is looking and I bet you would be dead for failing your mission… don't underestimate me."
"What do you want?" he asks, anger turning his words into a growl.
"All I ask is that you allow me to heal my friend. I'm certainly not the best, but I do have enough battle healing training to be of service to him. Please," she begs. "Let me help him."
Erwarth studies her intently and Tauriel forces herself to meet his hardened gaze. She hopes he finds whatever he's looking for.
"Eat," he says, holding the bowl to her mouth once more.
When she hesitates, he sighs loudly.
"You cannot heal on an empty stomach."
"Thank you," she breathes, and parts her lips to allow him to feed her.
He tilts the bowl and she drinks greedily, trying not to gag on the slimy stew, knowing she needs the nourishment no matter how foul it tastes.
When the bowl is empty, Erwarth sets it aside and withdraws a small dagger from his belt. She tries not to blanch as the blade catches the sun, glinting menacingly.
"If you try anything that one over there," he points at Grond, "will go the same way as the other."
Tauriel instinctually looks to her right, at Echtel's post, empty but for the sword lodged into the wood about halfway up.
"Understand?"
"I understand," she whispers.
Erwarth hesitates only a moment more before reaching behind the post to cut off the ropes binding her hands.
Her fingers tingle painfully as her blood begins to flow properly to all of her digits, and she gasps, rolling her shoulders forward. She takes a moment to massage her wrists and try to help her circulation, but is quick to help her friend.
Tauriel's legs give out when she tries to stand, so she half crawls half stumbles to his side.
"Grond," she mumbles, taking his face between her hands.
His eyelids are fluttering, and lips still moving, but he's far from conscious. She can feel the fever raging in him, radiating through her palms.
"Oh, Grond…"
"Ar… I… back… come back… arr…"
"Shhh, hush," she coos.
Behind her, Erwarth is watching with arms crossed.
Tauriel pushes aside Grond's shirt to reveal his wound; Erwarth already having cut the material when he bandaged the injury.
Afraid of what she'll find, Tauriel unwraps the makeshift bandage wrapped around Grond's waist.
She hisses when she sees what lies beneath.
His wound is still seeping blood, but it isn't as severe as it could be; it looks as if the blade that pierced him missed all major organs.
The real concern is the angry swelling redness surrounding the gash.
"It's infected," she says, looking over her shoulder at Erwarth. "I need Yarrow… and Saffron. Plus hot water, and fresh cloth to bandage him back up."
When Erwarth doesn't immediately start moving, Tauriel grows bold and impatient.
"You said I could heal him! Now move!"
He glares at her, but whistles calling the two closest Orcs over. They stare down at Tauriel in disgust, but she notes when they turn to Erwarth their hatred barely lessens.
"Bring Yarrow, Saffron, and boiling water. Now," he commands.
Tauriel prods the area around the wound, chewing her lower lip as Grond jumps in response.
I hope it's not too late.
"I'll need a mug as well, and another bowl," she adds as the Orcs return with her supplies.
They grumble menacingly, but comply, and she sets to work.
First she fills the mug half full of boiling water and adds the saffron before setting it aside to let it steep.
Saffron for infection, and to bring down the fever, she recites to herself. Yarrow to fight further infection, and induce healing.
Next she rips off a piece of the clean cloth they brought her and wets it in the hot water, using it to dab the wound and clean away all the debris lining the jagged hole.
Tauriel fills a wooden bowl with yarrow and scoops a small amount of water into it as well. She grabs a rock and begins using it to grind the yarrow, creating a thick, goopy paste.
She closes her eyes and begins to chant as she works, calling out to the earth around her, begging for the strength to save this man.
The familiar tingle of magic starts in the pit of her stomach and Tauriel grabs hold of the feeling, urging it to grow, spreading the healing power throughout her.
She opens her eyes and the world fades away, in this moment it is just she and Grond.
Tauriel continues her chanting, taking a handful of the yarrow paste and pressing it into Grond's wound. She presses her hand tightly to his side, and though he struggles against the pressure at first, soon the healing tendrils spreading throughout her begin to transfer to him.
He sighs loudly, the effect of the magic taking hold, lessening his pain. Grond's eyes flicker open, and he stares up at her, becoming conscious of his surroundings.
The magical tingling in her stomach begins to abate, and Tauriel gasps, releasing her hold on Grond's side.
After she catches her breath, she inspects the wound. The infection is not entirely gone, but much of the redness, and most of the swelling has subsided.
Tauriel slathers another layer of the yarrow paste over the opening, and begins to rebind the injury.
When she has him bandaged once more, she reaches for the saffron tea, and presses the mug to his cracked lips.
He is awake now, but she can see the weariness in his eyes.
Grond obliges her and drinks the tea without question, and when she meets his brown eyes she finds nothing but trust and gratitude looking back.
X
If someone were to ask Thranduil how he spent his day, he would not be able to answer with any certainty.
The only thing he is positive of, is that "Tauriel returns tonight" crossed his mind hundreds of time.
While it is true what he told Neleth, about not knowing if he will ever be ready to remarry, it also true that he can no longer deny the extent of his feelings for his Sylvan Captain.
Perhaps once I tell her how I feel, I may be able to again focus on other things.
Not that he doesn't want to focus on Tauriel, but he does have a kingdom to run.
As dusk draws near, Thranduil must force himself to wait in his council chambers, rather than at the gate to watch for her arrival.
He stares blankly at his desk, tapping his quill agitatedly.
When there is a knock on the door, he jumps, straightening his back and jutting his chin proudly.
"Enter."
The door creaks open and both Captains Dagon and Liel enter. Tauriel does not follow.
"What did you find?" he asks, trying to ignore the disappointment in his gut.
"Nothing, my King," Dagon sighs. "Not even so much as a set of tracks."
"The same for me, your majesty." Liel adds. "It was odd. We didn't even find any of the normal forest dwellers. It was as if they had all been driven away."
"What of Captain Tauriel's patrol? Did they turn anything up?" Thranduil asks.
"I'm sorry, my King. Tauriel's patrol has not yet returned," Dagon tells him.
"I wouldn't worry too much just yet," Liel offers, catching the look on his face. "Tauriel has a habit of this after all. She probably got carried away."
Thranduil nods, knowing that does sound rather like Tauriel, but his stomach clenches, his instinct telling him something is wrong.
He dismisses the Captains, telling them he will get back to them on their next assignments.
Once they are gone, Thranduil begins massaging his temple, all of the sudden very drained.
"Where are you?" He whispers to the empty room.
X
After doing all she could for Grond, and being allowed to use the semi privacy of the bushes near camp to relieve herself, Tauriel is once more tied to her post.
She spends the day in silence, intermittently watching Grond sleeping (now peacefully), and watching the sun trail across the sky.
As it begins to get dark, she can feel her anxiousness growing.
The other patrols will be arriving now. Ready to report.
When the sun has completely disappeared, and the moon has risen, Tauriel catches herself chewing the inside of her cheek, enough to draw blood.
They'll be missing us now… sighing and shaking their heads over Tauriel, the eternal rule bender.
Will he know? Is he worried?
She pictures her King, pacing back and forth in his office, cursing her foolishness under his breath.
It almost makes her smile.
Tauriel swears to herself that if she— when she gets out of this, she will tell him. She will tell him everything she's been too afraid to even acknowledge to herself.
I won't make the same mistake I made with Kili. I won't wait until it is too late.
With comforting thoughts about they're reunion, Tauriel allows herself to drift off into some much needed sleep.
X
Much as Tauriel had pictured, Thranduil spends most of the night pacing holes into the rug of his council chamber's floor.
Something is wrong. Tauriel knows better than to be this late.
Unless of course she found something, or believed she was on the verge of finding something.
Foolish girl…
He tries to repeatedly remind himself that she is a skilled warrior, and can no doubt handle herself.
Not against an army of Orcs.
At one point, late in the night, Thranduil tries to retire to his chambers. He even manages to fall asleep, albeit briefly.
He is plagued by nightmares.
He is back in Gundabad… he turns just in time to see Gilrin throw Legolas out of the path of the fire serpent.
The beast draws it's head back preparing to spit, and Thranduil runs as fast as he can to save her, dodging rocks and the bodies of his fallen soldiers.
Just as the creatures gives a giant blast of fire, Thranduil blinks and where Gilrin once stood now stands Tauriel.
She is watching him, and as if in slow motion she reaches her hand out to him, and he knows he will not reach her in time.
Flames surround her, and he screams in anguish, swinging his sword and cutting the beast down before launching himself into the fire.
Every nerve in his body screams in protest, but he must get to her.
He can feel her, and he tries to pull her into his arms to shield her.
The fire subsides, and when the smoke clears Thranduil looks down to find nothing in his arms but ashes.
He wakes shouting.
"No!"
Sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat, he knows something is wrong.
He doesn't know how he knows, but he does.
Knowing he will find no more sleep tonight, Thranduil dresses and goes to his garden.
Our garden.
He feels so much closer to her here. If he sits still, just by the edge of the pond, and listens intently, he can almost hear her voice.
Asking for help.
The next morning, when there is still no sign of Tauriel's patrol, Thranduil sends out another patrol to inspect her route and look for signs if trouble.
Sitting alone in his council chambers, Thranduil hears his door spring open loudly without so much as a single knock. He looks up expectantly, thinking of only one person so brash, but is disappointed at what he sees.
Two, he thinks, two people so brash.
"She's still not back yet? What's happened to her?"
Thranduil sighs and looks over Tauriel's maid appraisingly.
"I know no more than you do," he admits. "She was due back last night, and no one has seen or heard from her yet."
"And what are you doing about it?" the maid, Arodeth he thinks, demands.
"I've sent out a—" he begins, but is cut off by yet another intruder.
"Where are they? What is going on?"
"Lord Arradon," Thranduil says, exasperated, "as I was just telling… Arodeth here, we don't know where they are. We've sent out scouts to check her eastern route, but so far they have found nothing."
"Eastern? What about their new orders?" Arradon asks.
Thranduil is confused.
"What new orders?"
"The new orders you gave Tauriel! Sending her west!"
"Tell me what you know," Thranduil demands.
"I went to see them off, and when we were at the front gate one of her patrol members, Echtel, came running up with a scroll from you. It had your seal on it. Tauriel opened it and said their route had been shifted," Arradon explains.
My seal was missing…
Someone changed their orders and now they are missing.
Thranduil decides then and there that now is not the time to play cat and mouse political games. Now is the time for action.
"Arradon, lead me to your father. Now," Thranduil orders.
The boy only hesitates a second and they are on the move, leaving a confused and worried maid in their wake.
Arradon leads him through the palace, all the way to Lord Haewon's rooms.
When they burst in they find Lord Haewon still in his morning robe, having breakfast.
"W—What is the meaning of this?" he sputters, looking nervously from his King to where his son is locking the door.
Thranduil only sees red. He strides across the room and wraps his long fingers around the councilman's neck, pulling him from his chair.
"Tell me where she is," he says, loosening his grip slightly so Haewon may speak.
"I—I don't… know what you're t— talking about."
"I will no longer play your games!"
Thranduil tosses the man to the floor.
"S—son," Lord Haewon begs, looking to Arradon.
"You had best start talking," is all Arradon says, fierceness in his eyes to rival Thranduil's.
"Tauriel's patrol was given false instructions, and now they are missing. Tell me where to find them!" Thranduil booms.
"I really don't know what— what you're talking about. I had nothing to do with this!"
"Save your lies! You have been working to undermine me for months! First with that farcical trial against Tauriel, and then by spreading rumors of the two of us, trying to call my judgment into question!" Thranduil lets all the anger he's been holding back these last few weeks spill over. "I know you are the one controlling the rogue Orc army and I know you know where Tauriel is. Tell me."
"O—Orc army? You are mad!" the councilman scoffs. "The rest is true! I will admit it! I feel like you are putting our people at risk with all of these new changes and I have worked to call your judgment into question, but only because others cannot see it yet! But I don't know anything about any Orcs, or about Captain Tauriel… I don't know anything that goes on beyond these palace walls!
Thranduil gives a humorless bark of laughter.
"Really?" he asks. "Then tell me, my Lord, how did you know that I was attacked by a spider before anyone aside from those there knew if you weren't the one who orchestrated the attack?"
"T—the spider? Lady Neleth told me about the attack!"
Thranduil freezes, his mind racing.
"Stay with him," he tells Arradon, pointing to the councilman. "Don't let him leave."
X
They're looking… he's looking… they have to be looking for us.
Tauriel tilts her head back as far as she can and stares up at the cloudy sky.
"They'll know something is wrong by now," Grond says quietly.
Tauriel glances over to see him watching her.
"You should still be resting," she chastises. "You're still very weak."
"I'd be dead if it weren't for you," he tells her. "I can live with weak."
There's a commotion across the camp that draws both of their attention. Two Orcs seem to be arguing with one another.
They watch as one suddenly begins stabbing the other.
Erwarth comes running out of his tent and starts yelling for everyone to break it up. They listen, but not without a fair amount of grumbling.
Catching the two of them watching, Erwarth comes over to Tauriel and Grond.
"You're losing control," Tauriel remarks, unable to help herself.
"A few dissenters here and there is to be expected," he sneers. "It's in their nature."
"Why are you doing this?" she asks. "What could Lord Haewon offer you that could possibly worth working with these foul creatures?"
"Lord Haewon?" Erwarth asks, confused.
"Councilman Haewon. The bastard you're working for."
Erwarth laughs.
"That spineless little whisper monger? No, no, no. I'm not working for him. I work for Councilwoman Neleth."
X
Two corridors down from Lord Haewon's room, Thranduil finds Lady Neleth's chambers.
He doesn't bother knocking; he walks right in, closing the door silently behind him.
Lady Neleth is on the other side of the room, facing away from him, staring into a mirror while pinning her hair up.
"I wondered when you would get here," she says conversationally.
"It… was you? All this time it's been you?"
"It took you long enough," she laughs, "though, in your defense, I am a very convincing actress."
Pieces start to click together in Thranduil's mind.
"You fed me information about Lord Haewon to distract me," he says.
"That fool was a gift from above. The perfect distraction. The best thing was he was actually trying to destabilize your rule. I emphasize trying. No one really bought into that slop about you and your precious Captain. Well, aside from me. I knew it when I saw you look at her. I recognized that face… the same one that sealed my fate so many centuries ago when you looked at that simpering delicate flower Gilrin."
She shakes her head, and he can see the look of disgust on her face, reflecting in the mirror.
"As soon as you started inviting her over for dinners, and bonding over your losses, I knew she'd have to be dealt with," Neleth continues.
"You sent those soldiers after her? Erwarth and Langon?"
"It was easy enough. Do you know how deeply many of our people still despise dwarves? It took hardly any convincing."
"The other night," Thranduil remembers. "You weren't in my office for your scroll. You were there to steal my royal seal! You changed Tauriel's orders."
Neleth only watches him in the mirror, saying nothing.
"Where is she? What did you do to her?" he demands, heart pounding fearfully.
"Oh don't worry. She's still alive… for now."
"What do you want?" Thranduil asks, his heart in his throat.
"Isn't that obvious, dear?" Neleth asks, turning to finally face him, wearing a wicked smile. "I want to be Queen."
Author's Note: o_o
Can't wait to hear what you think! Again, thank you so much for all the support, you really don't know how much it means to me!