Do not own anything that Tolkien or Peter Jackson do.

SUPRESSED MEMORIES

The world filtered back in with an almost agonizing sluggishness.

First, her feeling of touch. The cool touch of finely woven linen against her tender skin. Her fingertips, trailing into the thick silky tresses of her hair. Sunlight, dappling golden and warm across her skin, slowly feeding life back into her.

Then came her sense of smell. The faintly musky, dark scent of wood. The clear, familiar crispness of leaves, carried on a tendril of a breeze.

Slowly, very slowly, her hearing returned to her, bearing with it, silence, unbroken but by occasional barely noticeable footsteps against the wooden floor. Her own breathing was the loudest thing to her, sliding in and out of her throat, hissing slightly as it rushed into her lungs.

At last, her sight faded back. Her eyelids were swirled with pools of darkness, a thin hair of light driving into the middle of this. With some struggle, she tore her eyelids open.

Light poured in, golden and white as any she'd seen, piercing like a needle through her drifting thoughts. Still, she didn't squint or close her eyes again. Rather, she let this light spill into her, filling up the dark recesses that had formed in her heart. Once her eyes had adjusted to the new lightness of the world around her, she flicked her eyes about, trying her best to take in her surroundings.

An uncarved, but worn cut wood ceiling domed above her, stretching down into sparing wood panels around the outside walls of the room. Canvas was stretched over this, practically bursting with light. A chair and a stand were set next to her cot, both empty. The doorway, too, hung empty and open, the flap of it pulled away.

She had barely started on trying out her numb muscles, when a presence appeared beside her. A youthful, delicate face, though strained faintly by the passing of centuries smiled down at her, its gray eyes kind.

"Naliel…" Tauriel's voice came out in a faint croak, and she winced.

The elleth only smiled a bit more, before procuring from beside her, a wooden cup. Without speaking, she slid a hand under Tauriel's head, raising it up fractionally, and lifting the cup to her lips. As the water slid, burning, down Tauriel's throat, Naliel spoke. "Hello, Mellonin. It is a relief to me to see you awake."

Tauriel smiled faintly, clearing her hoarse throat a bit before speaking, as Naliel lowered her head back onto the pillow. "It is a relief to see you at all. How long has it been?"

"You've been resting for two days now," Naliel answered smoothly, setting the cup down next to her. "It seems that you shall heal in time."

"Yes," Tauriel replied, a bit absently, as she suddenly became acutely aware of the bandages wrapped about her neck, and the dully throbbing pain that radiated across the better half of her shoulder. "Is there any news of the dwarves?"

"They left this morning," Naliel informed her. "They should be reaching the edge of the forest by nightfall."

Tauriel nodded, ignoring the disappointment that twinged so unexpectedly in her gut. What was there to be disappointed about? She was healthy, they were alright…Suddenly, his smile, that heartbreaking grin flashed across her mind. Ah. There was the cause.

"One visited you this morning," Naliel told her, watching her reaction carefully.

"They did?" Tauriel asked, arching a brow, and smoothly disguising her actual spark of interest.

"Yes."

"Which one?" Tauriel pressed, though she did her best not to seem too curious.

"I do not know his name," Naliel replied, her nose wrinkling slightly. "However, he was the dark haired, tall one, without—"

"—without braids," Tauriel finished, her heart doing a funny, absurd flipping thing in her chest.

"Yes," Naliel confirmed. "So, he was not lying when he said you knew him."

"He was not," Tauriel said. "I knew him…I have known him for a time now."

Naliel nodded slowly, before reaching, a tad hesitantly behind her. "He asked that I give this to you."

Tauriel couldn't help but stare, a tad wide-eyed at the letter resting in Naliel's delicate, hardly calloused fingers. "He did?"

"Indeed."

Tauriel did her best not to tremble as she raised a hand, to take it from the other elleth. "Have you read it?"

"I did not," Naliel said, her tone edged faintly with nervousness. "I wished not to overstep my bounds."

"I thank you for that," Tauriel said, letting a faint smile onto her face as she at last held the letter firmly on her lap.

Naliel nodded to her. "I will give you privacy, now. I do not wish to intrude. I will bring you your meal in a few minutes." Saying that, Naliel swept up to her feet, like the very picture of grace, breezing out of the room.

Then, it was just Tauriel and the letter. It felt almost as if he was alone in the room with her. The letter was heavy in her hand, leaden down with all of its possibilities.

Shaking that nonsense from her head, Tauriel opened the letter, breaking the small wax seal that had been left on it, and unfolding the message with slightly shaking hands. It was written in Westron, which was already a bit of a struggle for her to read, not even minding the young dwarf's atrocious handwriting.

Still, when she was finally able to understand it, Tauriel set to reading.

Tauriel,

I don't think it needs to be said that I am sorry. Or maybe it does need to be said. I don't bloody know, alright?

Even with just that odd, self-contradicting, hastily written line, the strangest sort of tears were springing into her eyes.

Aaaaand we get another rush written chapter! I swear, I will actually spend some time on the next one. If you are confused as to what's going on here, go over and read my other story, Break the World. Thanks for reviews and the like! They keep this writer convinced she actually really does love writing.

Next update will be the Friday after next. Seeya!