Dearest Readers,

I wanted to thank you so much for your comments! I am back from my hiatus. Currently I am in school and that has been swallowing up most of my time. However, I wrote this for you, a rather short chapter. I hope that you enjoy it!

~Anariel RR

Dearest Book,

It is now the third time this week that I am in Prince Legolas's arms. They are warm and firm, enfolded about me in a protective and affectionate manner. His fingers dance through my long red hair and I am lost in the sensation of his touch. In truth, I have never felt this way before. I feel as if part of me has died and that a new Tauriel has awakened from the ashes. As he leans in closer to me, my heart flutters weakly and I watch him so astutely, as if he would perform some sort of magic any moment. As he leans in, I can see his white-gold hair against my own red hair, joined together and interwoven just as we are joined together. With hands joined together palm-to-palm and fingers interlaced so tightly, we kiss yet again, our lips soft as feathers against each other. When we cease with the lip-locking, Legolas beams, his face akin to the sun with its luminescence, bright and cheery. At this moment, I pretend that he is my husband and that I am his wife, that we are two simple people without title and without occupation. We are just two beings so entranced with love, unified as one in this very moment. As my brow furrows and thoughts of Galhanar fill my mind, my face exhibits worry of some sort and just as he was ever my protector, Legolas gathers me in his arms once more, squeezing me. When he sees that my gaze is upon him, he reaches down and plants a gentle kiss upon my brow, his right hand cupping my cheek.

"Ci bain…" He breathes as he strokes the side of my cheek. I blush and let the silence set in for a moment. We finally kiss once more but eventually I break it off, shaking my head.

"We cannot keep doing this." I declare, aghast at this all. Can it be so? I am engaged to a man, I gave him my word yet here I am in the arms of Prince Legolas. His facial expression darkens a little, his bright gaze flickering into me. I can tell that he is considering my words, his expression now thoughtful.

"Tauriel…" He breathes my name as if it were some entrancing melody. "I know your words…your concerns…your worries…" He starts but I intervene, adamant to make a point.

"Please…" I say, waving a hand dismissively. "Hear me out. I have plighted my troth to Galhanar. He is a good man…"

"Do you love him?" Legolas flat out asked that question that caused my mouth to hang open. I felt like a petulant human child for a moment as I studied him.

"Do not ask me this…" I glanced away awkwardly, pulling away from him as I brushed my hair back over my shoulders. It was for me a curtain of protection.

"It is a rather simple question…" He gazes into my own eyes, I get lost in his bright pools. It seems that at that moment I cannot help myself and I cannot stop myself. I reach out for him but stop. Instead, he takes my hand and presses it to his chest. I can hear his heartbeat.

"I know not if you have affection for my friend…but know that I love you…I love you more than I can express in words." He whispers the words that strike me quite dumb and all I can do now is stare at him. I draw my hand back from him and attempt to cloak my wide-eyed astonishment. Rising slowly to my feet, I glance at him through (what I hoped were) aloof eyes.

"I had better return." I intone, trying my best to make sense of this all. My heart is for Legolas and my hand is for Galhanar. As I begin to stride quickly away, I feel a pang of regret reverberate throughout my own heart. I know full well that I have made a stupid mistake and that I have offended my prince. I remember now once more that he is my lord and sovereign…that I owe him my fealty and friendship. Yet do I owe him my love? Am I to continue so agonizingly love a man that I cannot ever have? A man who loves me notwithstanding the reason that he cannot ever have me? He is not some Dwarven lord sick with gold-fever. He will not snatch me away as if I was the Arkenstone but will do right by Galhanar, honoring him above all else.

By the time that I return the King's Hall, I find Ninimmien who is breathless. Clearly she has been searching for me but to no avail. I sigh in exasperation. It is enough that I have to plight my troth to the dark-haired Galhanar, but now I have to deal with Ninimmien and her antics?

"Mellon…what is it?" I croon, folding my arms about me as if they were but a shield.

"Galhanar has gone to your bedchamber and did not find you there. It was assumed that you were missing at the exact time that Prince Legolas was missing." She declares aghast. I don't need her to continue to understand the implications that could be made. I notice how she doesn't mention anything about implications.

"I see." I reply levelly, my face exhibiting no emotion, as usual.

"Your betrothed is seeking you…and that is all you say? I see?" She gets that irksome tone in her voice and for once I lose my cool.

"Listen, Ninimmien. You are my best friend…and I cherish your counsel…but for once, do not interfere with my life." I snap at her, my eyes exhibiting my own annoyance with her. With that, I make my way away from her and over to my bedchamber. I need to be alone. It is wholly unlike me to act in this way and I just don't exactly feel myself. I am eager to make it to my bedchamber before I am intercepted by any of my friends, acquaintances, Legolas, or Galhanar.

When I am within the safe and private confines of my bedchamber, I quickly bolt the door. I think of Legolas, of our embraces in the woods and yet I feel guilty. When I think of Galhanar, my love for Legolas strengthens. In truth, I feel so lost. I am divided in two by my duty and my heart. Which do I choose? When I think of it all, considering and weighing the befuddling situation, I think suddenly of Calithilwen. Calithilwen is an Elven wise woman who lives out in the woods by herself, a four hours walk from the King's Hall. Calithilwen is often visited by young Elven maids who seek to wed and she will do all sorts of spells for them. I think of how I will ask her about whom I should choose. That is when I resolve to set off for Calen-Galadh, the great Beech tree in which she makes her home. I will leave in the morning and I will set off to seek her counsel. I resolve to tell no one and to bring none along with me.

Tauriel

Sindarin Translation:

Calen –Galadh – Green tree

Ci bain – You are beautiful.

Mellon – Friend