Tauriel had never been able to name her favourite colour. Sometimes it was the cold colour of the twinkling starlight, other times it was the bluish-grey of a midwinter sky. It had been the deep shades of green, the colours of the grass and trees, or the silvery string of the spider's webs. Once she thought it was the pale purple, orange and pink of sunrise or the fiery red of the sun itself. Maybe it was the dark colours of her home, or the crown above Thranduil's head, but it had never remained permanent. If she'd been asked, she'd say she didn't have a favourite colour because any other answer would be a lie.
When Tauriel dressed in the mornings, she wore dark greens and earth brown to blend into the forest. They weren't her favourite colours, but she appreciated their beauty. She'd always been complimented on her fire-coloured hair, something that was not common amongst elves, but she didn't see it as anything special. She tied it into its usual braids, nothing fancy or heavy, but enough to keep her mane from falling into her eyes.
That day had passed like any other; hours spent patrolling the borders of Mirkwood, searching for signs of intruders and chatting to her old friend. But then something had changed. Legolas had spotted an intrusion - a hoard of dwarves battling oversized spiders. The elves had quickly slaughtered the enemy and positioned themselves tactfully around the dwarves, ordering their arrest.
Tauriel, alone, had exterminated the spawns of Ungoliath who had taken to attacking a young, black-haired dwarf isolated from the others. She couldn't help but flaunt her kin's superiority as she made a show of single-handedly fighting off the spiders, denying his request for a weapon. But when she finally stopped to take a breath and her eyes settled on the dwarf, she couldn't help but feel a little flustered. He stared at her in adoration and his dark eyes sparkled. Though she was unlikely to admit it, she thought in that moment that his eyes were beautiful.
As they escorted the dwarves back to their fortress, Tauriel noticed that her heart was beating rapidly. She'd thought it was from fatigue – a result of hunting spiders and guarding the borders since the sun had arisen – yet it remained even when she'd regained her breath. The young dwarf, she recalled someone calling him Kili, trudged along beside her, throwing glances in her direction. She ignored his presence and the speed of her heartbeat.
When the dwarves were led into their prison cells, Kili had turned to her with mock confusion. Though she already knew him to be weaponless, given that he pleaded for her to toss him a dagger, he asked whether she'd search him. The seriousness of his tone continued as he playfully added his own comment, refusing to break eye contact the entire time. A smile had been fighting to break out across her face, to smirk at his idiotic remark, but she was a trained captain of the guard – one of their best – and their kin despised dwarves. She would not give him that pleasure.
Composing herself, she raised her eyebrows and replied bluntly. She closed the prison door forcefully, not quite slamming it, but making it clear there would be no escape. Their eyes did not break contact, even with the metal bars obstructing their view. Something, a feeling that Tauriel could not describe, was swelling inside of her. To her surprise, it was not hatred, and she found herself doubting Thranduil's enforced opinions.
She turned away from his cell, straightening her back and finishing her duties. Legolas stopped her in her tracks, asking in Elvish why the dwarf stared at her. Her heart did an odd leap which she could not explain and she found herself fighting an urge to turn back to him. An image of his amused expression formed in her head and she found herself babbling about his height.
Catching herself, she suppressed her smile and risked a glance at Legolas. He did not seem pleased. She forced to herself to keep walking, wondering if his displeasure was due to Kili's display of affection or her slight show of fondness. And as she marched towards Thranduil's throne to report, she noted that that's what she felt – fondness.
She'd paused in the shadows, confusion welling up inside her. For many years, she'd been taught that dwarves were selfish, unappreciative of the world and materialistic, yet that didn't seem so. She couldn't imagine this young dwarf, Kili, neglecting the world around him for a handful of gold. He'd seemed eager to fight, to rid their lands of Ungoliath's evil, even if it was alongside an elf. His face had shown admiration towards her skill, whereas she'd imagined that dwarves would have gloated they were better.
When Thranduil had spoken of dwarves, Tauriel had pictured them to be scruffy creatures, dressed ostentatiously in precious metals and tacky gems. The band of said 'creatures' that they'd imprisoned were clothed in fighting and travelling attire, modest in their use of metals, and their hairs braided neatly. A smile crossed Tauriel's face as she thought of the roguish look that accompanied Kili; not ridiculously scruffy, but not neat and elegant like the elves.
Tauriel's thoughts had been disrupted by her Lord's voice, questioning her reluctance and indirectly commanding her presence. She quickly relayed a half-truth about coming to report to him and half-listened as he replied; her mind had begun to wander back towards a certain dwarf. She snapped to attention when Thranduil mentioned Legolas affections towards her, numbed by her surprise that he'd noticed. Though she did not return Legolas' feelings, she did not wish to be parted from her friend. She spoke carefully, replying with what she'd believed Thranduil would want to hear. Despite her lack of feelings towards the elven prince, the King's words, and the coldness in his voice, still stung.
With no other duties to attend to, Tauriel had elected for prisoner patrol. She paced the twisted paths of the cells, carefully controlling her facial expressions as she surveyed their faces. A part of her was longing to return to Kili's dungeon but she delayed herself, doubting her own thoughts and feelings. Whatever fondness she'd developed towards him was surely just an illusion.
Finally, Tauriel had allowed herself to wander over to where the young dwarf was imprisoned. As she approached, he glanced in her direction and stopped tossing an item – she was not sure what – into the air and catching it. Intrigued, though she knew she shouldn't be, she asked what the item was.
When he had answered, his expression was full of seriousness and his words seemed to warn her to leave. She straightened her back and pulled herself together, chiding herself for foolishly believing that dwarves were not as Thranduil had said. Keeping her features neutral, she turned and made to walk away.
“Or not.” He'd said with laughter in his voice and Tauriel had immediately turned back towards him. A gentle look was spread across his face and his eyes twinkled with humour. He confessed the true nature of his rune stone and grinned. It was contagious and, before she could help herself, Tauriel could feel her lips twitching into a smile.
He'd told her of his promise to his mother – the promise that he would return to her. In that moment, Tauriel felt a twinge of guilt; he could hardly return if they were keeping him imprisoned behind impregnable metal bars. If he noticed her glance away, he failed to indicate it. He continued speaking, informing her of his reckless nature. As he spoke, he tossed his stone into the air and it skidded across the hard, stone floor, jumping out of his cell and before her feet. She halted it's movements by carefully stepping on it before it slipped over the edge.
She'd stretched down to retrieve it, holding it into the air to examine it. The stone was a mixture of beautiful colours – none of which were her favourite – and crudely carved into. The letters were dwarvish runes, ones which she could not understand, yet she could guess their meaning. When Kili spoke to her once more, it took her a moment to register that he'd risen to his feet.
When he'd asked her about the party the Elves were having, she began pacing a little, unsure that she could look directly into Kili's face as she spoke of their traditions. It seemed unfair that he should be locked away whilst her kin celebrated the starlight. As she spoke, she pictured the beauty of the starlight – the bright, pure light and the precious memories that it arose – and somehow found herself comparing it to the young dwarf behind her. He was nothing like the kind that Thranduil had ranted about.
In return he shared his opinion of the stars, a sadness lingering on his face. Tauriel stared into his deep brown eyes as she explained the value of their light. Yet she could not help but compare them to Kili's eyes; yes, the stars were beautiful, but the expression, the kindness, the colour of Kili's eyes were beyond that. They revealed his thoughts; his emotions; the selflessness that Thranduil had failed to notice. And as Tauriel looked into them, she realised her favourite colour.
As their conversation continued, and Kili reminisced about his adventures near Dunland and the Fire Moon he saw, Tauriel perched herself on the edge of a step. A smile spread across her cheeks as she listened to his stories, lost in his words. Thranduil's teachings were completely wrong. Dwarves found the beauty of the world, and appreciated it, just as the elves did. They did not only care for gold and jewels, but also for small things with little material value.
If Tauriel had not had other duties, she would have remained on the cold, stone staircase all night, listening to his tales and sharing her own. His voice was kind and he looked at her with care in his eyes, not blaming her for his imprisonment. Urges filled her to set him free, but she could not actively disobey her Lord.
When the dwarves escaped, she dismayed. Not just because she would be ordered to recapture them, but because she'd just received word of an orc attack and they would be unarmed. Her fondness for the young dwarf was growing and, though she'd deny it if ever asked, she was filled with a strong need to keep him safe.
She'd fought the orcs tirelessly, ensuring that they could not harm the dwarves any further and allowing their escape. The only sound that broke her perfect concentration was a pain-filled moan that had escaped Kili's lips as an arrow snapped from his leg. She was overwhelmed with a desire to help him and tend to his wound, but her duty had to come first.
By the time the orcs were slain, with only one left standing, the company of dwarves had escaped. A mixture of emotions bubbled in Tauriel's chest that she could not understand – sadness, envy, desperation and anger. She breathed heavily, holding a dagger to the last living orc as she watched the barrels slip down the rapids.
When the orc had revealed that they'd pierced Kili's flesh with a poisonous morgul shaft, a dangerous anger bubbled inside of Tauriel. She clenched her teeth, repressing the desire to behead the disgusting creature inside their kingdom. Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She twisted her dagger, threatening the orc and spending her restless energy.
After a little outburst, Thranduil had dismissed Tauriel, a glare of disgust crossing his face as she slipped past him. He made a bitter comment, sending icy hatred through Tauriel's veins, as she left, settling the matter for her. Without thinking, she armed herself and slid through the gates. The journey down to the bottom of the river was tough. Sometimes she could move rapidly, covering long distances in a short matter of time. Other times she choked on her worry – what if she found the company and she was too late? How would she cope if Kili was dead?
After Legolas had joined her, as she knew he would, they travelled hurriedly to Lake Town. When she glanced at him, guilt flooded her stomach; when Legolas sided with her, she felt like she was abusing his feelings. Sometimes she wished she could just return them, but she did not know love. Or she thought she hadn't. Yet her fondness for the young dwarf, was it just fondness?
When they'd reached Esgaroth, orcs were attacking the village, specifically one house. High-pitched female shrieks echoed through the air and Tauriel guessed they belonged to whoever had pledged their services to the dwarves. She and Legolas darted towards the house along the rooftops, slaying stray orcs along the way.
Legolas dropped through the crumbled rooftop of the target of invasion, but Tauriel herself decided to use the door. She slaughtered orcs in her wake, planting her daggers in any and every vital organ. Her movements were swift and elegant, leaving nothing but orc corpses behind. Her lethal concentration broke only once; Kili stumbled as he'd eagerly helped out, crying out in pain as high fever and poison flooded through his system.
The horror of seeing him wounded was too much for Tauriel. She widened her eyes and stared at him, speechless and in shock. His cries made her chest ache with a pain that she could not understand and a fear awoke in her mind. What if he died? The thought itself built a lump in her throat.
Legolas ordered that she follow his lead and hunt down the orcs, but she hesitated. How could she leave Kili behind now? Yes, maybe she'd left to exterminate the orcs, but her main motive had been to find the young injured dwarf. Now that she had achieved her goal, she did not want to abandon him.
She'd silently pleaded to him, trying to convey her emotions with her eyes. If the other elf picked up on it, he did nothing to indicate it. Or maybe he just didn't understand or want Tauriel's affections to lie with someone else.
Robotically, she marched towards the door; the part of her that was still loyal to the Mirkwood elves was taking control. But then she heard him cry out and her actions were once again her own. She glanced at him, at Legolas and back towards Kili, breathing hard. If there was ever a time to follow her heart, it was now, and her heart was screaming at her to save Kili.
Before she could wonder how to help, she heard heavy footsteps charging towards her. Hands on her blades, she turned in a rapid movement to find one of the company hurrying in her direction. She stared at the plant in his hands, advancing towards him. Without asking his consent, she gently pulled the athelas plant from Bofur's fingers, gripping it tightly for comfort. Hope surged inside of her as she whispered that she was going to save him.
Working quickly, Tauriel shredded the plant into a bowl of water, focusing her anger at the orcs, Thranduil and Legolas and her restless energy into her movements. She forced herself to work calmly and breathed steadily, knowing that panicking would only increase the risk of failure. Inspecting the wound, she tried to suppress the nausea and dread threatening to disturb her calm. She pressed the flower against the infected hole and loudly spoke the elvish healing words. Her ears were deaf to his screams and her hands firmly held the plant in place, even as he squirmed and cried out. Her fingers were shaking and doubt was gnawing at her mind, but she finished the incantation, speaking each word with precision and care.
His pain slowly ceased and he collapsed backwards, fatigue and fever working against him. Tauriel ordered for some cloth to be retrieved and worked on binding his leg cleanly and skillfully. The sounds of his tired breathing was the only thing that filled the air and she listened to it gratefully, pleased that he was alive. Her nerves and nausea faded away and she found, instead, that the butterflies inside her stomach were from being within a close proximity to the young, reckless dwarf.
He caught her attention when he whispered her name. She'd stopped to glance at him, noticing the creases in his face as he tried to ignore the pain. His breaths were rasping, obviously a great effort, which would not be helped by speaking. Softly, she told him to lie still.
Thinking that he'd slipped back into a feverish sleep, she'd averted her attention back to bandaging his leg. Her concentration was broken again by his voice. “You cannot be her.” He'd whispered and she stopped, looking upwards but not in his direction. “She is far away. She is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world.”
Ignoring the thumping of her heart in her ears, she'd turned in his direction, staring at his pallid face. The colour was slowly returning which was a good sign, but his expression was contorted with pain and confusion. He frowned. “It was just a dream.”
A warmth spread through the tips of Tauriel's fingers as Kili's inserted his fingertips into hers. She could feel the coarse roughness of his scars, but his touch was gentle. An overwhelming feeling of joy and love spread through her being. How could she have lived for so long without knowing what it was, without understanding love?
“Do you think she could have loved me?” Kili had asked. Tauriel parted her lips, staring at him, unable to describe her emotions. Not only did she love him, but his words suggested that he felt the same. Her heart was swelling, on the verge of bursting. She wanted to shout, to tell him and the world, her answer, but she could not. His health came before anything else and he needed to rest. Without saying another word, she folded his hand in on itself, placed it on his chest and walked away. Nevertheless, she watched him from afar until he drifted off into the actual land of dreams.
When the dragon attacked Esgaroth, Tauriel had had two goals: to keep Bard's children and the remaining company safe and to escape the flaming ruins. She kept her mind focused on her goals strictly, refusing to acknowledge her feelings and Kili's existence until they were safe. When the dragon fell, she wanted to confess her feelings for the young dwarf immediately, but something held her back. What if his musings were just from high fever? What if he didn't actually care for her?
Upon the sandy shores of safety, Kili had made his feelings clear. Everything inside of her screamed for her to tell him in return, but she didn't. Her heart ached as she turned to Legolas and waited for instructions; she'd gone against his word and betrayed her kin too many times to do so again. She'd long since accepted her expected banishment, but she did not want to lose Legolas as her friend.
Parting from Kili once again had been incredibly difficult for Tauriel, but she knew that it was for the best; neither of their kin would ever approve. She'd met Fili's eyes for just a second and she knew he did not understand how his brother could have affections for an elf. Maybe that would have changed one day, but she would not invade upon their personal mission until that day came. It smashed her heart into pieces, but she knew that leaving him was right.
Throughout her and Legolas' mission, she had thought only of Kili and her regret. She wished that she'd stayed by his side or followed her heart and kissed him upon leaving. She'd almost done it, almost, until she'd become overly aware of Fili and Legolas' presence.
Her thoughts of Kili were only interrupted when her elven friend told her of his mother. She was saddened by the revelation, hating their King even more for depriving Legolas of her memory. But her mind did not linger there for long. It was selfish, she knew it was, but she could not keep her head on the mission at hand. She was worried for Kili's safety, scared that his recklessness would land him in danger again. He'd promised that they'd be reunited – she ran her fingers over the rune stone for reassurance – but death could easily stop that.
When the armies were released from Gundabad, Tauriel's heartbeat was pounding in her ears. If they were heading for Erebor, they had to warn the dwarves. She had to warn Kili. An overwhelming desire to protect him swelled in her chest and she urged Legolas to move. They climbed back onto the horse and pressed it onwards, urging it to move faster in their tongue.
As Legolas had guided their horse through the crumbling city of Dale, a growing feeling of dread weighed down Tauriel's chest. In their absence, a battle had begun and she couldn't spot Kili. The young dwarf was impetuous, content to put everyone else before himself; what if that had led to his death? Legolas rapidly informed Gandalf of the second army and her blood ran cold as Bilbo noted that Thorin, Fili and Kili were where they'd appear.
The blood that splattered the floor sickened Tauriel and she was surprised to notice that elven blood mixed with that of orcs, dwarves and human men. And that's when she spotted Thranduil making to leave to retreat to his kingdom. Filled with hatred, anger and reckless abandon, Tauriel blocked her former Lord's path, instructing him to join the battle. Her words were bitter and harsh, but true; his life had no love. His replies were just as hateful, knocking the breath from her lungs and shoving an icy shard in her chest. She knew that she loved Kili. She knew that her feelings were real. They were the most real thing she'd ever felt.
Once again, guilt swarmed her stomach as Legolas defended her life, forsaking his birth right, shaming his father and dishonouring his kingdom just to aid her. But she could not feel the same; her heart belonged to Kili.
Gratitude swelled in her chest as Legolas claimed he'd accompany her and the two raced towards the mountain. Her elf friend used his wit, leaping on one of the enemy's flying beasts to climb the slopes faster. Tauriel raced on foot, searching desperately for a sign of the young, black-haired dwarf.
Her heart soared with joy as she spotted him on a ridge, battling against an orc. She hurried in that general direction, hoping to join his side. Orcs attacked her, but she slaughtered them skillfully, wishing that she had her bow. If only Thranduil hadn't snapped it.
Tauriel called out Kili's name, her heart swelling with happiness as he called back. He was alive. That was all that mattered.
Bolg had pounced on her in that moment and she fought back, overpowered by the giant orc. Her movement were becoming sluggish due to the fatigue dragging her down; she had not slept since they'd first imprisoned the dwarves. Desperate to see him one last time, Tauriel called out Kili's name again.
The foolish young dwarf charged at Bolg from the side, throwing it away from Tauriel. She fought to regain her breath, forcing herself to climb to her feet. Both dwarf and elf fought orc together, but it was not enough. Tauriel was tossed aside like a rag doll, breathing hard to stay alive. Bolg raised a struggling Kili in one arm and poised his sword with the other.
Tauriel had pushed herself forward, throwing herself at the Gundabad orc. He deflected her with one arm and she tumbled to the cliff edge. Her battered body hit the floor and the air in the lungs evaporated. She struggled to move, to stop her loved one from dying, but her efforts were fruitless.
When Bolg thrust his sword through Kili's chest, a part of Tauriel died. Her breath caught in her throat and an icy coldness spread through her veins. She wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to rip that orc apart, but she was paralysed. And as the single tear slipped down Kili's colourless face and the light faded from his dark eyes, Tauriel stopped feeling. Her actions were no longer her own. She was numb. She couldn't feel.
Bolg and Tauriel thundered down the mountain and she cried out, desperate to return to the motionless body of the dwarf she loved. Her body hit the cold floor and she screamed, her lungs burning. Deep exhaustion filled her to the very bones and she could not move. Not even a finger.
Legolas pursed Bolg and the two of them battled, yet Tauriel did not care. She crawled up the mountain, spending every last ounce of strength she possessed. The war raging around her no longer meant a thing. The only thing she cared about was lying dead on the mountain top. Tears welled in her eyes as they rested again upon his blood-stained body. She wrapped her trembling arms around him, cradling his lifeless body close to her chest. And there she remained until the end of the battle, forcing heat into his cold corpse and drowning herself in her tears. Nothing could have ever hurt more.
The sight of Thranduil reminded her of the last time they'd met. She relived the argument in her mind, pathetically whimpering about how she no longer wanted love. Her former Lord spoke four words, only four, before turning his back and leaving. Tauriel, knowing that even the most heartless could see their love was real, pressed her lips against Kili's blue ones, wishing, not for the first time, that he was alive. Her first proper kiss and the other person wasn't even living.
As she pulled away and stared at his limp corpse, she instantly knew her least favourite colour. The crimson that stained his pale skin and tainted the pure snow brought a wave of immobilising nausea. Tauriel glanced away, keeling over as she heaved. She coughed and gagged until the contents of her stomach spilled across the floor yet the feeling did not pass.
It was a long time before she'd finally left that mountain. She'd carried his frail body with her, stumbling under the weight of him and both their weapons, refusing to leave any behind. By the time she'd reached Dale, the sun was rising on a pale sky. She glowered at it unforgivingly, loathing time for continuing without him.
Tauriel had scrubbed tirelessly at his wounds, washing away every inch of that sickening colour. When she'd finished, she laid him on his side and gazed at him. If she hadn't been present for the past day, she would have thought he was asleep. But she knew deep in her heart that he wasn't, no matter how much she wished it. She'd watched his death, cleaned the scarlet blood from his skin and clothes and noticed the purplish-blue of deoxygenation tainting his pale complexion.
Black was almost as bad as blood-red. On the day of his, alongside his brother and uncle's, funeral, everyone was clothed in it, including Tauriel herself. Her long dress was dark and her fire-coloured hair was twisted into dwarvish braids with metal, rune beads.
He looked regal and peaceful as she lowered him into his freshly dug grave. She kissed his forehead to wish him goodbye and picked up a spade. Working tirelessly into the night, Tauriel shifted mud over his corpse, glowering at anyone who tried to help. Her fingernails were cracked and her robes caked in dirt by the time she'd finished. Deep exhaustion filled her bones but she didn't rest. Tauriel wielded herself with a knife and carved elvish into his grave stone, honouring his memory in her tongue.
The flowers that grew in Mirkwood had once been a beauty she appreciated, but she hated their sight as she decorated his grave with them. The colours of the world no longer meant anything to her if he wasn't in it, for her favourite colour was long gone. She would never again see the warmth that filled his dark eyes or the smile that danced across his whole face. Her heart would not thud in her ears as she met his stare and her actions would no longer be clumsy when around him. Not in this lifetime. Maybe not in another.
As she collapsed into a heap of tears and sorrow, her world faded into black and white.
