Dear Readers,

Thank you again for your interest in this story. I am so thankful for all of the wonderful and thoughtful reviews that you all have left me. It really encourages me to write this story! I wrote this particular entry in honor of Valentine's Day (even though I'm a week late)! I hope that you all enjoy! Please please please review! I really love to hear what you all have to say!

~Anariel RR

Same Day – The Hall Outside of Tauriel's Bedchamber

Ninimmien's Point-of-View:

It was a poor business, the way that our King planned and plotted to marry Tauriel off like she was some possession. It is the way of Men and how they treat their Womenfolk, like chattel. It is shameful. We of Elven kind are the Wisest of all beings upon Middle Earth – we are the First born. Yet I felt that there were times when we fell so far from our true natures.

"Tolo ed!" I crooned in a soft voice, trying to mask the excitement in my voice. In truth I felt sadness for my good friend and her sufferings, but I was partially excited. Galhanar is handsome and dreamy, a man of worthy renown amongst our people.

"Oh Tauriel…how stubborn you are." I cried in a frustrated voice. For the past half an hour, I had been entreating her to emerge from her bedchamber, for her to show me how she looked in her mother's gown. It had been centuries since I last saw Tauriel in anything but an ankle length hunting gown, the forest green one she struts around in. To see her dress like a proper lady for once would be an enjoyment but it seemed like she was hesitant to show anyone.

"Û…" I heard her voice moments after the oaken door creaked open. I could see her sharp green eyes peering out from the small space. "I cannot, Ninimmien. I am not her and I do not do this dress any…justice." She sighed.

"Oh be not so absurd." I returned, my eyes brightening as I spoke warm, comforting words. "You are stunning, I am sure." There was a pause because she uttered not so much as a syllable.

"Oh you insufferable thing. Come out already!" I well-nigh shouted at her, ready to throw my hands up in frustration. "I promise you I will tell you honestly of my opinion. We have been friends a long time, you and I. I would never dream of misleading you. So come out before I fetch Laerorn to hack that door to pieces." She laughed at this, the first time I heard her laugh in days.

When she emerged from the room and the door was drawn back from the frame, I glimpsed my best friend – the same young woman who now appeared to me as an angel. She was stunning, her unique golden red hair as it was woven back behind the crown of her head in intricate interweaving of complex plaits. Long red tendrils framed her face, a slight curl to the way that it fell. The rest of her hair was draped over her shoulders, a series of curls, reminiscent of the ever-churning seas. Atop her head she wore the elegant lily diadem, the one that had once been her mother's and it fit her every single bit. The dress was a vision of silk, lace, pearls, and it fell of her shoulder in a delicate manner, causing her to look like one of those great ladies that oftentimes adventured to Taur-e-Ndaedelos. There was a small smile upon her lips, causing her eyes to brighten considerably. She was certainly the vision and it was likely that Galhanar would stop dead in his tracks when he saw her.

Dearest Book,

I feel dead. My own heart captured by such a man that I can never have – one so dear to me that I think him the superior of every male in the world. This night I dread what is to come…I dread the future. An eternity with a man I do not love…there is no greater hell.

Later…

How do I explain what happened? It all happened so fast that it felt as if it occurred within a blink of an eye. Ninimmien came to fetch me at my bedchamber and led me to the Great Hall. We went amid a procession of young women garbed in frocks of the palest white, some bearing pennants, others bearing gifts. At a betrothal ceremony, it is my business to bestow upon my potential groom gifts and to represent my house. Due to the fact that I am of no important lineage, my banners are a forest green, for I am daughter solely of the forest. I gladly proclaim myself in kinship to the Wood Elves who people Taur-e-Ndaedelos and Lothlórien. I am no Sindarin-speaking highborn maid but a simple common as clay maiden of the forest. My betrothal is celebrated with such pomp and circumstance due to my father's previous position as Chief Hunter for King Thranduil and because I am the Captain of the Guard. Something tells me that my days at such a post are numbered. A lady to a highborn Sindarin Lord has no business dirtying her hands with fighting or anything of that ilk. I tremble with horror as the procession makes its way into the Great Hall and King Thranduil's gaze falls upon me. Yet it is not King Thranduil's gaze that frightens me, but that of Prince Legolas, where he sits arrayed in splendor, his white silk tunic exhibiting his sleek build. Upon his head is a princely diadem but upon his face is no hint of a smile. His face is as stone, frozen and devoid of any emotion whatsoever. Yet in his eyes I can glimpse the rage, the fury that boils into one glint of coldness. When his eyes are upon me, I notice an astonishment in his nature, a break from the stone coldness that ruled him moments before. I see his eyes widen further, his mouth agape for a moment as he takes in my form. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden and a single tear streams down my ashen cheek. I am ashen for I am frightened, livid, and other emotions that I cannot describe with words.

A young maiden with a garland of autumnal leaves and late seasonal blossoms proffers me a golden goblet of Dorwinion wine. I can smell the heady aroma. Taking a sip of the wine, I can already feel the beginnings of a headache. I am not entirely sure if it this whole situation or of it is the wine that has a particular hold over me tonight. When I have imbibed half of the heady wine, another maiden appears to refill the goblet and alas I am bidden to drink yet more. Other maidens fling autumnal flowers at me, uttering blessings that my love with Galhanar may bloom like the very flowers they toss at me. Some get caught in my hair, others fall to the ground. There is much laughter, drinking, and merriment to be had. This is when I avoid gazing at Legolas altogether, too frightened to even look at him in the eyes. I know truly that I am not at fault but I feel as if I did something to make this happen. A circle of maidens form around me, Ninimmien one of them as they sing all sorts of songs of blessing, a couple songs about Beren and Luthien, others speaking of the Stars blessing me. I finish the goblet and yet another is thrust into my hands and I am urged to drink yet more. I rarely am inebriated, so that is not a fear for me.

Across the Great Hall, I can see Galhanar's dark head, it bears a silver diadem that bespeaks of his lordly status in Taur-e-Ndaedelos. The pennants that surround him are silver and they bear the picture of a great Beech Tree beneath the Sun. He wears a dark silk tunic that accentuates his muscular build and his face is cheerful as a mixture of people sing to him. Maidens cast flowers upon him, while young men sing graceful songs about the majesty of such a union. When I have had my sixth goblet of Dorwinion wine, the circle of maidens opens and at the same time, the circle of males does the exact same thing. I gaze on in horror as Galhanar appears as if out of thin air and he bows to me a moment before sinking down onto a knee. After having taken a knee, he addresses me, "Tauriel Dûthalioniel, I have watched you afar for many years and have seen that you have grown into such a beautiful maiden but into a warrior of great renown. Guren bêd enni i gi melin a go-vestatham aen. Man gureg bêd?" When he speaks those words, I nearly faint, and if Ninimmien wasn't at my back as my support, I would have done just that. When I gaze down at Galhanar, I glimpse so much promise and so much hope in his eyes – the new beginning of a love match. I blanch. For a moment, I allow my green eyes to gaze over to Prince Legolas, his face white with fury, his eyes dark and lacking their usual luminescence. I can see him clearly, gripping the armrests of his carved wooden chair as he gazes at our scene with such intensity. If he wasn't honoring his father's wishes to be at the feast, I know that he would have stormed out straightaway. When I glanced back at Galhanar, I glimpsed a beautiful silver ring that was clutched so tightly in his hands, its glimmer dazzling me. It had a knot-work all over the band. He grips my hand tightly as he gazes at me in an imploring manner.

"Guren be 'ureg. Na veth min în, go-vestatham!" I reply robotically as I try to ease my fingers out of his eager grasp. Behind me, I can feel a nudge and I spin about to face Ninimmien, who offers me a green pouch. Knowing full well what it is, I drawback the opening and empty its contents (a single silver ring) into my palm. Staring at it languidly, I fight the desire to weep. A beaming Galhanar (one he stands), slides the silver band onto my ring finger and bows his head for a moment to plant a kiss upon my hand. I feel bile rising in my throat, the desire to strike him filling my heart. My hand trembles as I slide the silver band onto his finger, I bite on my bottom lip. I force the falsest smile upon my face, attempting to appear joyful and happy but in truth, I want to escape from the room. I want to be simple Tauriel in the Woods, laughing with Legolas at jokes. At last, Galhanar offers his hand to me and I place my hand upon his own hand. He escorts me onto the dais, near to where Legolas sits brooding in his chair. No smile is to be found upon his face today. When we are at the very top of the dais, cheers are made to both bride and groom. I feel the desire to retch once more, but attempt to mask it all with the biggest, falsest smile yet. Once a new series of cheers and toasts are made, Galhanar announces to all, "Ai odhron adh odhril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis! Go-vestatham na veth min în!"

A cry of well-wishing and a burst of applause sounds about the Great Hall. Once we are out off of the dais and I am on the floor once more, I whisper to Galhanar, "Excuse me…I will be right back."

I utter the lie, knowing full well what it is. With that, I hasten down the passageways and across the bridge to the grand entranceway with its imposing oaken doors. The guards look at me strangely but let me pass, for I am no longer forbidden from leaving.

With abandon, I sprint into the Woods, not thinking how I am unarmed, not thinking of how I could ruin my mother's gown, and for a moment, it stops me. I ascend into the trees, making my way to that one Pine Tree with its soft needles so warm and so familiar to me. I can feel a crisp autumnal breeze as well as a chill that wasn't there the way before. Winter shall descend upon us before long and I can feel it shift. It is there and then that I sob softly, grabbing my stomach as if I was impaled by some wretched Morgul blade. I would rather that I did. Anything but this…the heartbreak…the indescribable pain that curls itself up in my breast. I want so much to remove the silver band, to fling it off into forest, to let it vanish into nothingness. This would be a most welcome gift.

"Tauriel…" I hear him breathe my name as soft and warm as the late spring winds of May. "Oh Tauriel…I must tell you…" I place my finger over his slightly parted lips before I look him in the eyes and mutter, "I know…I know. I love you, too." His eyes widen as if this is some great epiphany. Without another word being spoken, I close my eyes and move in closer to him. Without a bat of an eyelash, I place my lips upon his own lips. For once, we share a most tender kiss. I feel his flesh against my own and I can feel the warmth. He does nothing to discourage this kiss, but returns it with a passionate vigor.

"Gi melin…gi melin." I whisper once I break the kiss and I allow my green eyes to meet his silvery gaze. His smile is like the sun as it makes its ascent, everything that is hot and fiery. It is infectious. It is because of his smile that I cannot help but smile myself. In this moment, I am able to release all of my fears, all of my concerns.

"Oh Tauriel…" He sighs my name, causing my heart to bubble over with happiness, with love? Was it love? If it was love, I could get used to this.

"Ci veleth e-guil nîn…" He whispers in my ear before he presses his forehead to my own. I feel as if we are one for this moment, joined in something greater than our physical beings, something greater than a sham of a betrothal. At that moment, he then kissed me once more and we passed the night in such a way.

With love,

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Ai odhron adh odhril! Ai muindyr a muinthil! Ai meldir a meldis! Go-vestatham na veth min în – Hail father and mother! Hail brothers and sisters! Hail male-friends and female-friends! We two will marry at the end of one year!

Ci veleth e-guil nîn – You are the love of my life.

Dûthalioniel – Daughter of Dûthalion

Gi melin – I love you.

Guren be 'ureg. Na veth min în, go-vestatham! – My heart is like your heart. At the end of one year, we shall wed!

Guren bêd enni i gi melin a go-vestatham aen. Man gureg bêd? – My heart tells me that I love you and we should wed. What does your heart say?

Taur-e-Ndaedelos – Greenwood the Great/Mirkwood

Tolo ed – Come out

Û – No