I am delighted people are interested in this unusual pairing, please let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's work or Tauriel. The new cover-image is AI-generated.

The Quiet Hours

There was nothing for her to do the next day, no task, no orders. There was no urgency to be anywhere other than close to the little fox to feed him three times a day and change the bandages. Not even for meals had her presence been requested. This didn't surprise her, in fact, it surprised her far less than the invitations Lord Elrond and his sons had extended until now. Instead, she had taken her breakfast alone in her beautiful room, and taken something to eat with her as she went for a walk during noontime.

The mossy forest floor was soft under her feet, while the birds were giving a chirping concert above her head. She could see the forests might not be the same in the mountain region of Imladris and Greenwood, but it was all so full of life, life that seemed to flow through everything like a glowing golden band, right into her heart. In situations like these, when she was far enough from anyone else and she didn't feel like she had to give orders, it made her want to leap to jump, to dance. Not that Tauriel could dance well - it was rather a feral instinct, a feeling that was pounding in her chest. So, she did the next-best thing - she ran. Like a red arrow piercing into the bushes, straight through the trees. The wind was whipping through her braids and caressing her face until she finally got slower, just to turn around and race back. She was a wood elleth, her orientation skills were phenomenal - she knew where she was going, even in this unknown territory. The Lords Elladan and Elrohir might say what they wanted about her needing a leader or a guide - it might be helpful, but she certainly didn't need one. She was much more skilled than they would ever think, especially as Lord Elladan would ever think.

She scoffed to herself. What an ellon! So haughty and sharp, intelligent and quick, arrogant and cold. In some respect, he reminded her of Lord Celeborn, and yet, there was something profoundly different in him that she couldn't quite catch. She kept pondering about it, but it wouldn't come to her. Well, it didn't matter anyway, Tauriel told herself, as she lounged on her bed after dinner, still listening to the birds chirping outside. It was mild and the soft wind was blowing through the open windows, touching her skin. The weather was far too nice to be insideand the velvety dusk made her itch to explore, even though she had been out and about walking for most of the day. How these high elves could sit still in meditation for other reasons than sleeping or listening to the forest she couldn't quite grasp. It somehow felt like a waste of time.

With nimble feet, she hopped over the stairs and the pathways, through alleys and between buildings that had by now become mostly abandoned. How beautiful and lively it must have been when more ellons and elleths had lived here, once upon a time, she thought. She doubted it had ever had the easy charm of Laketown with its market square and dances, but she was sure there must have been some kind of bustling anyway.
Did the people who still dwelt here miss it? Was that maybe one reason why they wouldn't stay? Because fewer and fewer things were holding them?

There was an open space, like a little terrace, in a cliff high above her head, that looked like it would grant a great viewpoint over the forest. Maybe she would even be able to catch a glimpse of the sea - though truthfully, that was unlikely. They said the sea would make High Ellyn and Ellith long for the passage to the Undying Lands, but she couldn't see why water would do that to a person. It was just water, wasn't it? Somehow, she wasn't interested in it one bit, if she was honest. And yet, the challenge of the climb up that rock made her curious.

As it turned out, no climb was necessary at all once she had found the small pathway that curled around some of the buildings and up the rocks in a shimmering grey band. It was rather steep and she stopped a couple of times along the way, without rushing, taking time to enjoy nature. The birds were going to sleep now, but the nightlife was starting to rustle between the leaves. That was the reason why she always had a dagger with her, even though she doubted trolls or orcs would ever dare to get so close to Imladris. When she rested once again, she noticed she had almost reached the spot where most likely the best view would present itself - just two more turns, and she would be there. Just as she wanted to go on, voices suddenly came floating down the mountain.

She stopped in her tracks and pressed against the stones at her back, searching for coverage in case she would have to deal with unexpected enemies. Then, after a couple of moments more, Tauriel frowned, taken aback for a moment: These were Elvish voices, certainly, and they didn't appear distressed. Not at all, actually! No, this was the somehow familiar soft voice and low laughter of somebody who knew their partner well. And even more so, who was quite fond of them.
Her thoughts started to race while puzzle pieces in her head started to form a picture: This was an ellon and his partner, who had made their way up here for privacy. Maybe to stare at the moon or something. Tauriel certainly knew what Greenelf-partnership entailed, had heard her guards talk about it from time to time, but she didn't think the folk of Imladris lived by the same rules. She somehow had the feeling their rules of courtship would be a lot stricter and involve a lot less physical connection.

Maybe this place up here was a clandestine meeting point away from the houses, possibly established at a time when more prying eyes had been around. Quite an effort, if she was honest, just for a meeting.

Suddenly, her eyes widened. Now she knew where she knew that voice from - it was Lindir, Lord Elrond's aide, who had ended up here. Then, the talk was interrupted by what appeared like shuffling, and another type of sound. She smiled a little. Apparently, kissing was popular here as well. Or, what would be even more amusing, these two were quite the rebels. Then, the other person who had until now been rather quiet finally spoke, and the elleth almost coughed in surprise.
No doubt, this was one of Lord Elrond's own sons, who had just been so thoroughly occupied. From the slight lilt in his voice, she would have guessed Elrohir, but she couldn't be fully certain.

Well, it wasn't her business, and she wouldn't begrudge the two their probably secret meeting, may it be for affection or amusement. So, she slowly and carefully backed away and down the slope, trying not to step on any loose pebbles and alert them of her presence. As a result, the way down took her about the double amount of time than the way up and she felt thoroughly sweaty when she reached the bottom. Maybe she should go for that swim in the little lake now, she wondered, to cool off and relax.

And yet, while she was still debating that option, an arm suddenly shot out of the shadow of one of the houses, grabbed her by the shoulder to twist her around, and effectively pressed her against the nearest wall. Before she could complain or scream, a hand had already covered her mouth. There was a shadow in front of her, taller than her, but certainly not an orc. No, the hand across her mouth was too soft for that, and it didn't have claws. Nevertheless, Tauriel didn't appreciate that treatment at all, so she brought one of her knees up to kick her attacker in the groin. Unfortunately, her attacker seemed to have predicted this, since they twisted and blocked the movement with their hip instead.

"Will you stop that?" they hissed.

She froze. The voice was familiar and certainly unexpected. Elladan. Tauriel stopped struggling.

"I will put my hand away now, and you listen, alright?" he commanded. He sounded rather annoyed.

Out of options, she nodded, as best as possible when pinned against a wall. He slowly let go of her but didn't move back far enough to appear non-threatening. He was still making a point, and they both knew it.

"Have you been up that path?" he wanted to know.
He nodded towards the way she had just come down.

She didn't answer.

"Have. You. Been. Up. There?" he almost growled.

"I thought I was meant to listen, not to speak," she snapped back and raised her chin in defiance.
It might have been bratty, but she was in no mood to cooperate. Elladan sighed as if he were dealing with an unruly elven child.

"I don't have time for this. Obviously, I do need an answer."

"Is that how you treat guests?"

"Right now, my priorities lie elsewhere."

"Why?"

"Because it matters to me."

"Why?"

He just stared at her, she could see, or rather feel it, even in the dim light. It gave her a bit of a funny feeling, a mixture of amusement, challenge, and something else.

"Assuming I had been up there. Why could it have mattered?"

Elladan still didn't answer, but she was certain he was grounding his teeth now. He was annoyed, almost furious, but she had the feeling he was also covering up something else. Was that worry? But why? He hadn't done - something clicked, and she almost laughed in disbelief.

"Your brother and -"

Even before she had uttered a full sentence, his hand was on her lips again. Really, how rude! But now she knew why he was so antsy, what had spooked him. She rolled her eyes - these Rivendell-elves seemed to be even more stuck-up than she had imagined. Decidedly, she took his hand, and pulled it off her mouth, pressing hard enough on his pulse point to dare him to do it again. He seemed to get the message, since he lowered it.

"I didn't see anything," she gave back. "But even if I had," she stressed the word, " it wouldn't have mattered to me one way or the other."

He looked at her gravely.
"I can just hope that you speak the truth. Forgive me if I judge you unjustly. I love my family, beyond anything, and they are of my utmost concern. I hope you can understand."

She nodded, even though she still felt somewhat annoyed by the presumptuous lordling. Then she wondered what culture he was used to that a little romance like theirs would make him freak out.

"Tell me about your customs," she told him curtly. It wasn't really a request.

Ellladan looked at her in surprise, but then inclined his head and turned onto the path. He motioned for her to follow him until they reached the place where they had played chess before. Small lights were giving the whole area a magical shine, but she could see that his eyes were roaming over her critically. Right, she must look quite like a sweaty mess. But he didn't say anything, just fetched a pitcher of water and two cups. Then he made a come-hither gesture, as if this wasn't the right path for the conversation.

She stayed at his side, curious, until they reached a small bridge that seemed almost built between the trees. In a very unlordly gesture, he flopped down onto the wood with his legs hanging over the edge and into the air and motioned for her to join him. Tauriel grinned wryly but decided to humour him, for once.
It reminded her painfully of what she would have done with Legolas - and she missed it. Missed it so much.
When he saw that she was settled, he continued.

"Just like everywhere else, Elvish customs have changed very little over the eons in Imladris," he started, "and now, with most gone, there is even less flow and shift. It has always been very ... High Elven, I suppose."
He looked at her almost apologetically.
"An interest in history, culture, but also weaponry of the highest kind. Music and art. But always ... always looking at the past."

"And for your brother, and yourself, that means?" she pushed.

He shrugged.
"There are no rules, not explicitly. But there were always ... Imladris was always losing people and lacking elflings. So, it just doesn't make sense."

They both knew what they were talking about, though neither would say it aloud. Finally, he sighed.

"You know how it is, I suppose."
It was tentative, a statement. Not condescending, but neither particularly kind. It made her want to slink back, to lash out, to run away. To protect herself from the hurt that always flared up whenever Kíli's name came up. But maybe it was the calmness of the night or the fact she didn't particularly like him that made her stay.
She hummed.

"I know it won't mean a thing, but I am truly sorry."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, surprised. Very few people and hardly any elf had said it to her so clearly, rather dancing around the topic as if it didn't matter or hadn't happened.

"It doesn't go away. Nothing goes away."

He looked at her seriously.
"I know. Believe me, I know."

She frowned.
"How?"

"My mother. I couldn't save her. Not really. And I carry that with me, every day since they took her, and every day since she passed into the West."

"But she is still there. Him, and my parents, they are gone. Gone."

She picked up a pebble and mindlessly chucked it into the abyss in front of her. He was quiet.
"I am sorry," she said after a while, "I belittled your pain. That was wrong. I just feel -"

"Helpless?" he supplied.

Tauriel nodded.

"I believe we all do, at the end of the day. For one thing or the other, all of us carry guilt. Hate ourselves a little, think we could have done better. My father is the best healer on this side of the sea, and even he couldn't heal her soul, only her body. Your Lord Thranduil couldn't save his wife. That seems to be the way of the world."
He sighed.
"You don't have siblings, do you?"

She frowned.
"No, I don't. Why?"

He bit his lip as if he was debating the wisdom of his words.
"You know my family, my father's line, are peredhel, half-elven. Born elvish, but able to choose a mortal life, if they so wish. My uncle and my sister both chose differently, just like Luthien."
Now he sounded sorrowful.
"Once I leave, I will never see my star again."

With a sigh, Tauriel leaned back onto her hands.
"And now we are back to our original topic - hopeless love stories with unfortunate endings. Or," she amended, "in the cases you just alluded to, mostly painful for the people who will stay. Not for them. Not if you love someone that much. At least it's something for a story. Someone once told me that all the important things make good stories - or something like that. Your uncle was a ruler, your sister a queen. Lúthien the mother of a house that brought about kings."

He looked at her with surprise.
"Your historical knowledge is certainly better than - never mind."

"Thank you, you are most kind," she bit back, "other than generally expected, wood elves are not stupid, or dumb, or uneducated."

Elladan grumbled something under his breath but didn't fight her. Then he asked, into the night.
"Would you have? And why that face suddenly?"
Apparently, they were not talking in full sentences anymore.

"I don't know if I had chosen a mortal life, since I never had the option. And I just remembered that I might have to change my statement. Maybe love is always painful. Maybe there is no point in it."

"Or maybe it's the only point."

She huffed.
"You seem to have an awful lot of opinions and thoughts about this. Is there someone specific in your life? Someone who has sailed, perhaps?"

Elladan flinched.
"Nobody. Maybe that is why there are so many thoughts. Maybe because I was asking myself why there never was. I saw people around me loving but never did. Not that way, anyway."

"And now you took a wood-elleth you don't like to discuss it with."

"Beggars can't be choosers, can they now?"

She would have stormed off if she hadn't been so surprised by the snark.
"I suppose they can't. That's why I am stuck with an arrogant, spoilt lordling."

"Certainly."

They kept watching the stars as they wandered, Elbereth's work in motion, though Tauriel supposed it had much more of an influence on an elf of light than on her - just as the trees, Cementari's creations - seemed to call out to her. It was peaceful and almost companionate, and it made her realize how used she had become to being alone. As dawn was already breaking, Elladan finally got up and offered her a hand. With a raised eyebrow, she took it and let him pull her up until they almost stood nose by nose. Totally in synch, they almost jumped back to put distance between the two of them and she chuckled.

"Thank you," Elladan suddenly said, and she knew it was for far more than just not telling on his brother.