mithril

IX.

"Enough!" Thranduil commands in Elvish. Tauriel freezes a breath's width from the Orc's face, her blade pointed directly between his eyes. "Tauriel, Léra. Leave us. Go now."

I pause, staring at Legolas. He nods slightly, dismissing me from the platform. I turn on my heel and follow the She-Elf away from the two Elves. It's not hard to read the tense draw of her shoulders. Her steps are determined. Her face is fierce and grim.

"You're going after them, aren't you?" I ask her softly. "The Orcs?"

"Yes," she responds without looking back at me.

"Then I'm going too." Her steps pause. Her hesitation has me moving in front of her, twisting to face the Elf. "Two swords are better than one, Tauriel. I'll meet you at the gates." There must be a certain fierceness to my gaze that she doesn't want to argue with. She dips her head slightly, watching as I slip from her side and dart for my room.

I appear not five minutes later, my leather armor neatly replaced over clean chain mail, the Elven pants and tunic of Rivendell forsaken for these more appropriate Woodland ones. Angolain sits across my back, and new daggers are tucked across my person. It's the way I first met Tauriel, albeit cleaner and void of the neat braids Thorin had woven into my hair.

Tauriel is already moving as I appear, light feet breaking into a run through the wide double doors of the Realm. I follow her without speaking, keeping pace easily as she leads me through dark forest paths I have never traveled before. Behind an elf, the trees seem much less evil. Less harsh and not quite as cruel. The She-Elf knows these woods well, maybe better than her own kin.

"Do you love him?"

The question is so sudden in our mutual silence that I jump. I look up at her quickly, startled by her question and her boldness.

"Do I love...? Thorin?" I ask, my voice small with uncertainty. Tauriel just watches me. Waiting for an answer.

Love?

In all my time with the Dwarf, such a thing had never crossed my mind. We'd been running nonstop for so long that my time to mull over my emotions was limited.

Tug tug.

"I don't know the answer to that, Tauriel," I answer, looking away. My mouth is dry and my eyes are wide.

The Silver Wolf laughs at fear. Afraid of nothing.

...Except the prospect of love, apparently.

Tauriel doesn't speak to me again. We reach the edges of Mirkwood, following the river. The trees end in a rocky embankment, the waters of the Forest River fast and fierce here just before it enters the lake. I stare at the mess of blood and bones scattered across the flat river rocks. Deer carcasses lay broken and destroyed across the space. The Orcs have demolished their way through here. I drop into a crouch, gazing into a pool of pure red. So much blood. So much death.

To my right, the red-haired Elf stiffens. She hears something I don't. In an instant, her bow is drawn and aimed at something behind us. My hand flies to Angolain, but I pause as she doesn't fire.

"I thought you were an Orc," Tauriel calls in her lilting Elven accent. I relax slightly as I turn, finding Legolas. His own arrow is pointed at us, but I don't fear what his presence might mean for us. If Thranduil wanted us dead, he would not have sent his son. The prince would not be quick to kill either of us. My fingers leave the pommel of Angolain and I rise to face the prince.

"If I were an Orc, you would both be dead," Legolas replies. His bow lowers as his gaze dips to me. "Tauriel, you can not hunt thirty orcs alone with just a human at your side."

"But we are not alone."

"You knew I would come." Tauriel smiles knowingly, turning from the prince. His own smile drops. "The king is angry. At both of you. Tauriel, for six hundred years my father has protected you, favored you. Léra, he opened his home to you on multiple occasions and welcomed you as if you were our kin. You defied his orders, betrayed his trust. Come back with me, and he will forgive you."

"But I will not. If I go back, I will not forgive myself," Tauriel replies. I stay silent as she speaks, forming my own response. When the blond Elf turns to me, I press two fingers to my heart.

"I made an oath, Greenleaf. I will not betray the person I swore to serve. You knew it would come to this. If you choose not to help us, we will continue on without you." Legolas sighs, shifting his bow. He knows the underlying warning in my voice.

I will not betray the person who holds my heart.

"You both make good points. Dúnedan, know that I follow these filth to help my people. Not because I wish to help you reunite with a doomed king."

"I know," I answer the prince with a slight smile. "I thank you, my friend."

"Long have we known each other," he nods. "I would not see your head taken from you so soon."

"Thranduil would have to answer to Elrond if he did such a thing," I respond, raising an eyebrow. "I do not think he would be so unwise."

"You know little of my father, then."

"Careful," Tauriel scolds, "you approach treasonous words, my Lord Legolas."

"And will you be the one to tell him of my treason, Tauriel?" Her eyes narrow.

"The king has never let Orc filth roam our lands. Yet he would let this Orc pack cross our borders and kill our prisoners. I will speak the treason into existence myself," she answers quietly.

"It's not supposed to be our fight."

"But it is our fight now," she answers him, shifting as she gestures at the blood covering the ground. "You know it will not end here. With every victory this evil will grow. If your father has his way, we will do nothing. We will hide within our walls, live our lives away from the light, and let darkness descend. Are we not part of this world?" She looks at me. One of the race of Man amongst her kin. "Tell me, friend, when did we let evil become stronger than us?"

"You know I will not dispute your words, Tauriel," he whispers, taking a tentative step forward. "Long has my father sat silent on his throne. I will help you."

She smiles slightly, gesturing at the trail before us.

"Come, then. We have Orcs to hunt, and they are moving fast."