Tauriel's POV:

She did not allow the panic rising within her to show as she knelt down next to him, now just slightly shorter than him. Instead, she offered him a soft, gentle smile that clashed with the chaos around them.

As though they were not surrounded by fighting and bloodshed and death.

As though his leg did not have a rather large arrow protruding from it.

As though they had all the time in the world.

"Hello, Kíli." Tauriel breathed. "You wouldn't happen to be escaping, would you?"

A strangled sound came from Kíli - somewhere between a laugh and a groan - as he yanked the arrow from his leg. "Nay. What would give you that impression?"

Somewhere to their left, an orc was rushing at them, weapon raised high. But Tauriel paid it no mind. She knew that somewhere else, somewhere nearby, a blonde haired prince would strike it down before it reached them.

"You should return with me. Let us treat your wound before it gets worse," Tauriel urged, though she was not certain she wanted him to say yes.

She knew well that her king did not easily forgive, and the likelihood of the dwarves being welcomed back within the halls of Thranduil was slim to none. His chances at survival were likely higher if he left.

"It's just a scratch," he replied, a strained grin sliding over his face. "Barely nicked me."

She knew he was lying. However, in her limited dealings with the dwarves, she'd quickly learned that their pride almost rivaled that of the elves. And if he was determined to leave, she would not rob him of that resolve.

"'I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye," Kíli mumbled, swaying back and forth slightly from what Tauriel assumed was either poison or blood loss. His eyes seemed unfocused, as though he had forgotten what he had been doing before the arrow struck.

But Tauriel remembered. She had been watching him, every movement, every breath, and she knew.

"You're not gone yet." Tauriel leaned forward, her lips brushing against his cheek in a fleeting, tender kiss. "Wait for me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of battle. "Wherever you end up after this, wherever you are, wait for me. I will come, and I will save you."

She rose swiftly, before he could respond, and moved to the lever that controlled the bridge. With a firm push, she opened the gate once more, allowing the dwarves beneath the bridge to escape.

The act was defiant. Reckless, as her dwarf loved to say. And she knew that later, when the heat of battle had passed, she would face the consequences of her actions.

Thranduil would not overlook such a blatant betrayal.

But as Tauriel watched Kíli stumble over to the edge of the bridge and drop down into the empty barrel his brother had waiting for him, the only regret she felt was in not going with him right then.

Legolas's POV:

He hadn't meant to propose - at least, not in the way that he had.

It was an honest mistake, really.

He'd been on his way to bring Tauriel a plate of food after she slipped away during Mereth Nuin Giliath. There had been a table filled with figs and soft cheese, which he knew Tauriel had a particular fondness for.

And he's known exactly where to find her. She'd always had an interest in the world and the people beyond the Woodland Realm. It was almost a given that she would have ended up slipping away to go and speak with the dwarves.

What he hadn't accounted for was her singular fascination with one dwarf in particular.

It had been obvious that the dwarf was infatuated with Tauriel, though Legolas could hardly blame him. To be in Tauriel's presence was to be engulfed in adoration and desire for her.

But that desire, that want… it was not one sided with the dwarf and Tauriel.

As he stood on one of the stone walkways above them, eavesdropping, he listened to the way Tauriel spoke to him, laughed with him.

They were as close as two elves could possibly be and still, she had never once clung to his every word the way she did as the dwarf spoke about some stupid fire moon.

And then later, after he'd stomped around for a while and ended up in her chambers, eating the plate of food he'd made for her, he had felt such a sudden and intense urge to claim her. To make her his. To own her laughs and her smiles and every single inch of her.

If she had stayed down there with the dwarf only a minute or two longer, he was almost certain the feeling would have dissipated. That he would have been able to swallow it down and continue on with his life.

But then Tauriel had walked into the room and every plan and every good drop of sense he'd possessed had vanished.

He'd originally planned to give her a grandiose proposal, after another 200 or 300 years of courting her. And he'd made his father see reason after providing the simple explanation that Tauriel would otherwise pledge herself to a dwarf and effectively show the world that dwarves were more desirable than elves.

Of course, his father had, at that point, guzzled down several bottles during Mereth Nuin Giliath and was keen to agree to anything suggested.

All of that being said, he hadn't meant to propose to her right then and there in her chambers, shrouded by shadows.

And now, as he watched her wipe her tear stained face as she gazed after the fleeing dwarf, he had a sinking feeling that he'd only managed to push her further away.