October 10, 2946 T.A.
Today I found Legolas by the city gate, and we went up from the town talking and catching up on all the events of the past five years. Both of us inquired politely about the other's comings and goings, and I am afraid my tales were terribly boring in comparison to his. Legolas, you see, has been aiding his father in amending Mirkwood's foreign policy, especially in regard to the dwarves of Erebor. They've been trading back and forth, and apparently, relations have been good. I can tell from his carefully chosen words that Dain is frustrating to work with, but for my sake, Legolas does not openly curse the stubbornness of dwarves or insult your customs, and for that I am grateful. I think you and he could even have grown to be friends.
He asked me if I'd like to go alone to visit you. Before that moment, I had just assumed that I would go alone. But there was a kindness in his eyes and I thought I might need a friend to be with me. So we asked politely for entrance into Erebor, and the guards at first were very rude to us and laughed in our faces. I almost cried in front of them, Kili, it was so humiliating. But I gathered my courage and asked for Ori, the royal scribe. Since five years had passed, his beard had grown long and thick, and he recognized us at once. So thankfully, we were allowed into Erebor.
As we passed by servants and citizens, crafters and weavers, and all manner of tunnels, halls, and rooms, I was struck by one resounding thought: This could have been my life. It's gloomy and dark inside, and more than a little drafty, and it couldn't be more different from the home I lived in for 600 years, but I would have gone there with you, Kili. I would have lived there, if I could be with you.
Five years later, I could be with you, but it was in an altogether different way.
Ori took us down to the deepest level of Erebor. It was a place of shadows and dust, and I've never heard such a deep silence. One could feel death in the air.
He opened a thick stone door for us, and it groaned in complaint, and Ori looked up at me with eyes full of pain. "They're in here," he whispered, and left us.
Three raised stone boxes were in the room. The first and grandest must have been Thorin's. The other two stood on either side, and they were simpler, carved less elaborately and without ornamentation. I paused a moment at Fili's tomb, paying my respects to your beloved brother whom I had never gotten to know. Then I paused at Thorin's, remembering the king whose kingdom slipped through his fingers.
I forced myself to look at the third tomb. Your name was on it. I moved over to it as if in a trance, remembering a dream I once had, remembering the image of your decaying corpse. I clasped my hands together; they were trembling almost too hard to pray. "Aulë," I whispered. "Keep him well. Keep him safe. Let me go to him." Then I lifted my head and saw Legolas looking at me, and I felt my face crumple, and I ran to him and let him hold me for awhile.
Wish you were here,
Tauriel.