~ To Temper Seafire ~
Whilst Elrohir had been pre-occupied, Aerlaer had slipped from their camp, and, shifting, galloped into the twilight, toward her home.
On a hillock, she stood, gazing down upon the Gladden Fields, the long, lush grasses and wildflowers tipped in soft moonlight. There was no one waiting for her, only memories. So many memories. She was alone, so very alone. Her voice rang out, a neigh of longing, sorrow, of heartbreak. No one answered but the soft breeze. She didn't know where to go. To go back, it hurt, so, so much. Legolas…
It had all been a lie. He'd told her he'd never stopped looking for her, loved her from the moment they had met so many years earlier, and yet, he had lied. There had been another, this Tauriel. Their reunion had revealed the truth. Legolas did not love her. Perhaps it was only their souls, confusing their hearts, their minds. Perhaps she never truly loved Legolas? But why did it hurt so much?
Slowly, she trudged back towards the encampment; the sky beginning to lighten little by little, still no closer to knowing what to do, or where else to go. Perhaps an orc would take her life, and she would at least be with her herd again. Yet, it was not the herd she wished for in those moments. If Tauron were here, he might know what to do, but he was many leagues away, too.
Aerlaer kept to the treeline once she was back within the camp area. A rustle of leaves caused her to pause mid-step and turn, coming face to face with, "Legolas." She gasped, her body freezing at his sudden presence.
"Aerlaer." He breathed out her name, hands cradling her face. For a moment, she remained still, her heart soaring at seeing him, at his gentle touch, and then the memory of the pure joy upon his face when he'd seen the copper-haired elleth brought reality crashing down. Aerlaer pushed his hands away, stepping back from him. Legolas, his eyes wild, searched her face.
"No, don't go, Aer, listen to me." He rushed out, but she couldn't. She couldn't bear to hear his excuses, his lies. "It's not what you think." He said, grasping her hands, not unlike Orophin had not so many hours before. "You know I love you, you, Aer."
"You don't, not the way you said. My father, he was right to keep me from you. He knew, he knew you'd forget about me, knew it wasn't real."
"He knew nothing, I never forgot you, Aerlaer. Please let me explain. Stay, let me explain everything." She shook her head, breaking away from his contact once more. Spinning, she headed towards the sea of tents, pushing away the comfort of his touch, the anguish in his beautiful brown eyes, the dried tears upon his ashen cheeks.
"Damn it, Aer!" Hands grabbed her, whirling her about, and fingers were in her hair, an arm about her waist, lips searing against hers. She gasped, the pain vanishing, silvery light enveloping her, soothing her, igniting her. He pulled back with his own gasp, eyes possibly wilder.
"We are meant to be together. Nothing, nothing is more important to me than you."
"My soul, Legolas, it is all it is, not me."
"Your soul is you; I love all of you." He hissed out, holding her by the shoulders. She shook her head.
"If we had never found each other again, if you had never left these woods, would you have bound yourself to her?"
"Aerlaer-"
"Would you have bound yourself to her?" He swallowed thickly and looked away.
"I don't know." He whispered, but he knew the true answer, and so too did she.
"I need to go."
"Aerlaer, please, let me explain. I don't want to lose you, not when I've only found you again."
"You were never really looking for me." This time, when she wrenched herself away, he did not hold her back, and she could hurry away before he saw her fresh tears.
…
Tauriel shrank back against the trunk of the tree she was currently crouched in, mind reeling, heart racing. She'd seen, heard, the entire exchange between Legolas and the Princess Aerlaer.
Little of what they said made sense, only confusing her more, but she could not refute the kiss between them, fuelled with more passion, more desperation, than any chaste kiss between elves she had witnessed before. Legolas, it was as if the only thing which would quench his soul was the Princess's touch, her very presence. Tauriel had seen the glint of tears as she'd fled from him once more, seen the way Legolas had crumpled within himself, watching her go. Legolas had never looked at her with such ferocity, such... love.
Tauriel's eyes pricked with her own tears, and she pressed her cheek against the cool bark of the tree, watching Legolas walk dejectedly away in the opposite direction from the Princess. His hair, it had glowed silver, as hers had scintillated pale gold the moment he'd embraced her, the light mingling. It had dimmed to limp strands as the Princess had left him. Legolas's hair had always appeared as if touched by moonlight, but never had she seen it glow...
"Tauriel." The King's steady voice floated up to her, and with a sigh and quick swipe of her tears, she dropped to the leafy ground.
...
Thranduil materialised from the darkness of the still woods. Despite commanding his people to rest early the evening before, he'd walked the forest, deep in his own regrets. Tauriel, it seemed, had not taken rest either. Nor his son or the Princess.
Thranduil had seen Aerlaer flee the camp in secret hours earlier, her direction no mystery to him. His son had vanished, but the trees had reported he was safe, until Thranduil had seen him wandering aimlessly under the canopies and followed him from a distance. He, not unlike Tauriel, had witnessed his son and Aerlaer's confrontation. It made little sense, but it was obvious as the sun would rise; they loved one another deeply.
"You once told me, my Lord, I knew nothing of love." Tauriel whispered, her voice filled with anguish.
"Tauriel." Thranduil turned sharply to look at her, recalling those words he'd hissed at her in fury so, so long ago.
"You were right. I don't know what it's like, not truly, not like that."
"Love is many things, Tauriel." He murmured, tilting her chin up to ensure she was listening to him. "It is felt in many ways. Do not dismiss how you feel."
"But it is not meant to be. I was wrong."
"We were both wrong." He sighed, dropping his hand away from her. "I regret giving you hope, but you are young. One day you will find your true match."
She nodded, keeping her chin up, regal as ever. Tauriel was more of a daughter to him, then he'd ever cared to admit, and Thranduil hated how he'd inadvertently hurt her.
"Come, let us train a while." He said, and Tauriel threw him a grateful look.
"Yes, my Lord, perhaps you might even best me this time."
"Count on it." Thranduil shot her a challenging grin and was glad to receive a small smile in return.
...
"Tithinriel, where in Arda have you been?" Elrohir bit out, temper simmering, but Elladan simply pulled her into an embrace, shooting Elrohir a glare. The quiet, anguished sob she let out silenced the tirade he'd prepared. It was Legolas he should yell at. How dare he! Elrohir knew. He'd known something wasn't right on the way to the Black Gate. The evening Legolas had said another elleth's name in his sleep. Was it this same elleth, this Tauriel? It had to be. Had not Estel once said Legolas had left an elleth behind in Greenwood, because she loved another? Was it the same elleth? Or were there more than one? Elrohir had a mind to let Legolas feel the wrath of his blade. How dare he hurt Aerlaer so deeply? How dare he deign to bind himself to her when his heart was not true?
"Take a walk, brother. Our cousin is safe. I'll ensure she takes a moment's rest." Elladan instructed. With gritted teeth, Elrohir nodded, and stalked away through the tents.
The sound of swordplay somewhere in the trees caught his attention, and Elrohir followed his ears, wondering if he could duel out his current anger.
A small group of Wood-Elves trained in a grassy clearing within the trees. To Elrohir'sd surprise, King Thranduil was among them. He paused, watching the deadly grace in which the King moved, noting his lithe copper haired companion moved almost identically. Much like Legolas, he mused, grinding his teeth. Idiot Sinda.
"Lord Elrohir, you are welcome to join us." The King called out, simultaneously disarming his opponent. "Tauriel needs help besting me this morning. Perhaps you could teach her a few tricks." He chuckled, while the very elleth who was part of his cousin's heartache, glowered at the King.
"Thank you for the offer, but I'm content to observe." Elrohir replied, noting the look of wariness the elleth directed at him. No, not at him, from behind him.
"I'll fight." An all too familiar voice called out, and Elrohir let out a low curse.
...
"Princess Aerlaer." Thranduil gave a small bow in greeting, noting the elleth carried a sword nearly the twin to the sword he'd seen his son wearing the afternoon before.
"Tauriel, pair up with Elrohir." He commanded, beckoning Aerlaer to join him. "I am eager to see how the young Princess fares against me." Her eyes narrowed, flickering to Tauriel who hurried to find a space. Elrohir, nodding in understanding, joined her without hesitation. Thranduil had no desire to see the two ellith lock blades with one another. It would undoubtedly end in bloodshed. Thranduil could at least give the Princess an outlet for her hurt and anger.
"You wish to spar with me?" She said, bravado faltering.
"Of course, the skill of the Edhelroch is legend. It has been many centuries since I had the pleasure of pitting myself against a new opponent." She still seemed unsure, and so Thranduil did what he did best. "You were far too young to be much of a threat the last time we crossed paths, little princess."
There. A flash of raw anger ignited in her current sea-green eyes, and strands of her hair sparked copper. Thranduil had forgotten how her eyes changed in colour; never allowing her to fully conceal her emotions. She drew her sword, and stalked towards him, a trained killer, a heartbroken elleth, a dangerous and unpredictable opponent.
Steel rang against steel, and her direct attack, the strength behind it pleasantly surprised Thranduil. He'd barely blocked her when she'd moved, swinging her sword towards his side. He stepped around, bringing his sword up in time, continued moving, using his weight to test her own strength. Her mouth was set in a concentrated line, and while she made no sound, her eyes flashed, and her hair sparked.
Thranduil let Aerlaer familiarise herself with his technique, the way he moved, but it seemed she already was. Legolas, of course. She would have practiced with his son. Some of her moves were even the same as Legolas's. But, the Princess's technique, it was... familiar. The way she moved, as if she were a whirlwind holding a blade, reminded him of someone else. Dropping suddenly, Thranduil went for her legs, intent on knocking her from her feet. She leapt sideways, rolled, and sprang up behind him, blade arcing up towards his side. Thranduil let out a chuckle, blocking her counter attack.
"Ah, Glorfindel trained you well." He threw her a compliment, noting her surprise. The pause was miniscule, but he used it to his advantage, cutting straight up towards her throat. She leapt back, barely in time, evading his blade, twirling around him as he moved with her, grinning at the way her hair sparked like copper fire.
Perhaps if he wore her down, tempered her, Legolas might later have a chance of making her see reason.
"How long did you train under Glorfindel?" He blocked and parried her next attack, surprised by the sudden ferocity behind each cut and thrust.
"Three hundred years, while locked away in Lorien, away from your son." Her words were sharp, an angry hiss, and Thranduil faltered, feeling that sharpness across his cheek, slicing lightly across age old scars.
When had he last bled by another's blade? When had he last faced such a fiery opponent, unafraid to challenge him for fear of reprimand?
Aerlaer leapt back, well away from the reach of his sword, eyes wide with shock, staring at the blood she'd drawn. Thranduil, mentally shaking himself, stalked around her, blade moving in his hands, waiting to see what she would do next.
"Three-hundred years. It is no wonder my son could not find you, and believe me, he tried." He commented, going for nonchalance, but his actions were precise, and he drove at her with quick slices, noting how her parrying barely blocked his attack. He'd made her question herself. Good. In his peripheral, he'd noticed everyone else had ceased sparring, to watch him and Aerlaer, including Legolas. Excellent. If he still knew his son, and he did; enough pushing, enough threat, and he would interfere. He always had led with his heart over his mind. Just like his mother...
"You were welcome to live in my realm, become a Princess of the Greenwood, if you wished it." He said, gliding easily around her, toying with his attacks, giving her time to absorb his words. "But your father refused my offer. He did not think you'd enjoy being locked away within the walls of the city, unable to run free." She frowned. "Would you have given up your freedom for my son all those years ago, Aerlaer?"
"Of course." She snapped, but he saw doubt in those sea fire eyes. The Edhelroch hated being caught and caged in above all else, and Aerlaer was no exception. They had roamed for a time, from the sea to the fringes of the Greenwood, before Middle Earth became too dangerous to move so freely about.
"Are you sure, Princess?"
"Enough!" A sword intercepted him as Aerlaer's too blocked him, and the sharp ringing of metal upon metal filled the morning air. Thranduil threw a triumphant smirk at his son and slipped his blade from the other two, leaving them alone. He had his victory.
...
"Are you alright?" Legolas searched her features, blade still locked against hers.
"I'm fine." She disengaged, paling at the sight of the audience she'd gained while fighting with the King. He was rather terrifying to go up against and infuriating. Aerlaer was unsure how to process all he'd said. Thranduil had wanted her to live in the Greenwood? Her father had refused the offer on her behalf. Would she have gone to live in the woods, in the great caverns beneath the ground, which Legolas had once described to her? Would she have truly been locked in, unable to run free beyond the King's walls?
"Aerlaer, come, sit down. You look pale." Legolas disengaged his sword from hers, sheathing it. Aerlaer let hers hang loose at her side, contemplating his offer. She was emotionally exhausted, and King Thranduil had only added more weight and confusion. To just take some rest, with Legolas by her side, it would be so easy...
A horn rang out, signalling it was nearly time to march on Dol Guldur, startling them both.
"I have to go prepare to leave." She cast her gaze over him, pushing back the urge to fling herself into his arms. "You should too."
"Alright." He reached his hand out towards her, swallowed, and dropped it, taking a step back. "I will see you when we ride out." Aerlaer nodded, heart aching from the lack of contact which had become second nature, and turned, hurrying back towards the campsite she'd shared with her cousins and grandparents, ignoring Elrohir who shadowed her once more.
...
"Your cheek." Tauriel murmured, as she walked with the King to his private tent, where they would part to prepare for the upcoming battle.
"Vicious little thing. I'm rather impressed." Thranduil smirked in reply, and Tauriel decided her King was possibly insane. Tauriel had not practiced with Elrohir; both too absorbed in the deadly dance Thranduil was leading.
"My Lord, is..." Tauriel hesitated, unsure how to word her concern. "Is Legolas in danger?"
"Not at all, provided he does not let his emotions distract him today." Thranduil turned to her. "Fight near him today, Tauriel. I trust he will allow your company over mine." His tone turned bitter, regretful.
"Yes, my Lord." She gave a quick bow, leaving him at the entrance to his tent, and entering her own.
Swiftly, she changed into clean garments and donned her armour. Last, she buckled her quiver to her hip, and with a bow in hand, and blades at her back, strode to where the horses had been kept overnight.
Thranduil, ever swift in all his actions, was already mounted upon his great silver elk. Someone had tacked up Tauriel's stallion, Caranor, and she took the soft reins, murmuring a greeting to the copper chestnut, slipping him a handful of nuts from her pocket, before leaping up into the saddle.
With a click of her tongue, they moved off, and she went about checking the Mirkwood contingent was ready to move out. She and Haldir, along with her King and Lord Celeborn, would address the entire joined army before they departed for Dol Guldur.
In the distance she caught sight of Legolas astride a solid grey horse beside Haldir on a leggy bay mare. They were talking, and content her people were well organised, Tauriel trotted over to them.
"Greetings, Lord Legolas, Lord Haldir." She nodded politely, noting Legolas's grimace at the use of a title.
"Good morning, my Lady." Haldir smiled across to her. Legolas merely nodded back.
"I might find Celeborn, determine who I am to ride out with." Legolas made an excuse and turning his horse, trotted away. Haldir let out a sigh.
"I apologise. It is my presence he avoids." Tauriel murmured, heart sinking.
"He worries it will further upset my cousin. And he's not wrong." A wary voice spoke from behind her. It was the striking, onyx haired Ellon, Elrohir, the one who seemed to have it out for both her and Legolas.
He was also the Princess's cousin? Wonderful.
"Have they spoken yet?" Tauriel hedged and received a dry laugh.
"My cousin does not so easily forgive, not when the crime is so abominable."
"And what, exactly, is this "abominable" crime you speak of?" She narrowed her eyes at him.
"His clear lack of faith, and clearer affection for you." Elrohir replied with scorn, only igniting Tauriel's own anger.
"You know not of which you speak. Perhaps if you and the Princess deigned to listen, all this drama could be avoided." She snapped back at him, satisfied to see shock in those silver-grey eyes. He studied her, curious and calculating, and Tauriel felt as if he were searching out her deepest, darkest secrets.
After a long moment, he said; "I'm listening now."
Hello to all you new readers, and cheers to those who left a review.
A xx
Zikashigaku – Hehe, nope not at all! Upsetting Aerlaer never bodes well for anyone, inc Legolas!
D'elfe – Won't lie, the drama llama angst was kind of painful to write, so I'm glad its painful to read. Souls old yes, but (not including Elrohir), being elves, they have not been doing so for very long in the grand scheme of things.
Phantom Bard – Thank you for pointing out the Urak dilemma. You are so right, but it feels almost wrong not adding the 's. This story won't get any more edits, so hopefully it does not bother you too much. :)