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Pitiless, the Tempest Wild

Summary:

Legolas matures among the Guards.

Tauriel makes regular reports to the King.

Notes:

This is a very slow moving relationship haha. Bear with me. I'll try to speed things up next part :)

Might make more sense if you've read Part 1: My Age's Future Shade.

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When Tauriel had borne Legolas back in through the gates, the King was standing on his balcony. Even from the great distance his expression was terrible to behold.

Now she knelt behind the bed as the court healer made his assessment.

“The wound upon my Lord’s breast is severe my King and put there by an accursed knife. However the Prince is young and very strong and I believe in time he will recover his full strength.”

The King nodded. “I thank you. Go to Galion, he will prepare some reward for you.”

The healer nodded and retreated.

Tauriel kept her gaze on the stone-laid floor but even without looking up the weight of Thranduil’s glare made her shoulders crumble.

“Tauriel,” He said slowly and very deliberately. “Report.”

***

The first time she had seen Legolas standing outside the barracks she had not recognized him.

It was perhaps a little foolish. She saw the King now and again of course to make her reports, and she had even seen Legolas once before, standing at the foot of the high throne. He had made little impression on her at the time, seeing as he neither spoke nor it seemed moved. Still she should have taken note of his face.

But when she saw the young elf standing outside the barrack hall staring intently at the notice for joining, she did not recognize him. She noted his hair of course and admired it. Blonde hair was rare outside the lineage of the Vanyar and it was the same shade as the King. In hindsight, an obvious give away.

“Thinking of joining?”

He turned to look at her. His hand went to his chest and he made the salute. “Yes Captain. I came of age yesterday. I should like it more than all things.”

She nodded. Young elves joining when they came of age was not unusual. There were less than now than there used to be - apparently because singing and drinking was now considered an official vocation in Mirkwood - but still, being a guard was one of the few jobs that allowed one to go into the far wilds. He had the look she recognised; an eagerness to find, a curiosity to see.

“My logistics officer Dairon is whom you’d be wanting to speak to but seeing as he is no where to be found this morning, come with me.”

She led him into the barracks to find the signing sheet for him.

“Where is Dairon?” She asked one of the guards. The young elf saluted sharply and said, “I think he is went to the Great Hall, a missive was sent from Court wanting to know the status of armory and that was the last I saw of him.”


“But the supplies for patrol leaving tomorrow is not even ready. What does he think he's doing?"

The young elf made a perplexed expression and she dismissed him.

“Here.” The potential new recruit was handing her the paper. She took it and looked at his name. Looked at it and then looked at him. Recognition went like a shock through her.

“My Lord, I didn’t know. I didn’t recognize you.” After the words left her mouth she wanted to hit herself on the head. “I’m sorry, what I meant was-”

“No it’s fine.” He shook his head. “I have done nothing worth recognizing and so it is of no consequence.”

She looked back down at the paper. “My Lord Legolas, we watch over the forest and so we call ourselves guards but the work we do is really just that of plain, simple soldiers. The King has his own honor guard which he chooses himself.”

“Yes Captain.” Legolas said. “I know that. This is what I wish to do. You do not know what it would mean to me.”

She looked into his young, earnest face and an odd sensation came over her. It was like looking into clear water, there was no shadow and nothing was hidden from her. Now that she knew she could see very strongly his resemblance the King. But at the same time they seemed as different as the sun and the moon.

***

“I told him I would think on it.” She said. “And would give him an answer one day hence.”

There was a pause. Long fingers drumming on the desk.

“He is of that age already,” The King said. “I had nearly forgotten. You were right to come to me, Tauriel.”

“What answer should I give the Prince then?”

Another pause. Then, “If he wishes to traipse around the forest, sleep on leaves and chase after Orcs, let him.”

There was a sinking feeling in her chest. “Very well, my King.”

“I shall expect regular reports however. And Tauriel?”

“Yes?”

“Legolas is my only heir. If he should be hurt-” He left the last part hanging.

She bowed her head. The stone upon her heart grew heavier. “Yes of course.”

***

Bringing up a new recruit was always a troublesome thing.

You never knew how they would respond when first encountering an orc or a goblin, or any such creature that they had, until that point, only seen in story books.

There would be confusion, invariably, and then a lot of chaos. A mad scramble to unsheathe weapons and then arrows flying haphazardly in all directions. Every now and then there would be an elf who would be so startled he would shoot the person standing next to him in the foot.

There was always an expected drop out rate. Not everyone had the stomach for the work.

Tauriel found herself hoping the Prince would be one of these. He had in fact foisted upon her a very tiresome babysitting job and she had no time or patience for it. The growing shadow in the South was ever upon her mind, and there was a war in the North among the Men of the West and the forces of Angmar. Here under the great trees they were safe for now, but for how long? She had so many things to look to.

So when the arrow had flown out, quick and strong, landing true in the eye of the goblin she was, in actuality, a little bit put out. Then there was another one before any of the others could react.

“Once my Lord Legolas killed the two goblins, the other new recruits rallied behind him. It was very quick, my King, and for a first skirmish remarkably well organized and free of incidents.” She made no hint of her own personal feelings in her report however. She owed the King an unbiased assessment.

“I see. So there is something in him. I suppose that is just as well. Still he is very young and may do foolish things yet. I will continue to rely on you to watch him Tauriel. See that he does not bring shame upon my House.”

“Yes my King.”

“Also if you see your Lieutenant Dairon, send him to me. I have something to ask him.”

“Yes my King.”

***

She had been so busy thinking about how annoying it would be for her to have to spend months following the new recruits about on mundane tasks like foraging herbs or marking new trails that she had overlooked how awkward it would for them to find a Prince suddenly among their ranks.

She was reminded of it however owing to an incident involving another new recruit called Teodor and a missing sleeping roll.

“I must have left it at the campsite last night.” He said morosely. “I’m sorry Captain.”

She stared at him. What did he expect her to do about it? Why was she in fact here, doing this? “Just share the roll of the person next to you.” She said,  irritated. “And why are you all gathered here on this side? There is plenty of room over there-” She had turned around to point and then stopped short when she saw Legolas setting his sleeping roll on the other side of the glade.

“Ah.” Teodor said awkwardly. The other elves, whom she now realised had deliberately set up on the opposite side, turned to look. Legolas too straightened up. Her finger hung awkwardly in the air.

Before she could speak however Legolas lifted his arms. He sniffed himself. “Oh I get it.” He said loudly. “Why did none of you warn me? It is true that I have not bathed for a few days but still this is very cruel of you Teodor, to reject me so and in front of so many people.”

Teodor flushed as red as his auburn hair. “No my Lord that’s not it at all!”

“That’s not it? What is it then? Oh, could it be because I snore? Well I am sorry about that-”

“No my Lord, of course you do not snore! That is not what I meant.”

“So that is not it either. Ah, I feared this. Is it simply because I too ugly to look upon in close proximity? My aunt has often reassured me that I am not but as I suspected she may be biased in this regard.”

“No, no, no. You completely misunderstand my Lord! It’s only because you are so high above me, because you are beautiful beyond all things. I am not worthy to be beside you-” Teodor cut himself short abruptly, looking as though he wished a hole would open up that he could hide in for a hundred years.

“Well.” Legolas looked surprised for a moment too and then smiled. All the way up to his eyes. “I think you are very well too,” He said demurely. “I do not mind that you are so below me as you say, and I do not know how that affects your worthiness. But still we are too young to plight our troth and perhaps it may be better to do it when there are less people around. You might also want to speak to my father first.”

“What? I didn’t mean-” Teodor looked completely horrified and then stopped when he saw Legolas laughing at him. For a moment he stared and then he laughed too. And everyone was laughing and several young elves were calling, “Moving in on the Prince, eh Teodor? Getting in early?” One of the young female elves said, “What a passionate declaration, I hope I shall hear something of that ilk one day.” Her brother Emaroth nudged her in the ribs and said, “You Anawen? Perhaps if they’re blind and deaf!”

Legolas said, “Shall we sit and tell stories? I have some about Doriath that my mother told.”

“I have heard that your mother knew Melian the Maia.” Anawen said eagerly. “Is it true?”

“Wait, let me build up a fire first!” Teodor said, still red to the ears.

 ***

“He has an easy way with people,” Tauriel said when they were home. “He made it clear very early on that he did not expect them to treat him as a Prince. It was much easier for the rest after that. They have all grown very fond of him.”

“He is the Prince however,” Thranduil said. “That they should be fond of him is of little consequence and no importance.”

***

It was not the first first time Dairon had forgotten to lock up the barracks. Tauriel frowned as she stared at the open door. She had grown worried about her officer and old friend of late. They had been childhood friends, and had joined on the same day. Over the long decades they had faced many perils together. Once she had even thought... well, she had been young then and more foolish.

Still he had been acting strangely; he was dreamy and distracted. He had always been very handsome - she'd overheard many a young guard whispering about "Officer Dairon's lovely face" as they passed his office in the barracks where he could be normally found wrangling with figures - but he seemed extra preoccupied with his appearance of late. Barely was he able to walk past a looking glass without gazing into it or adjusting his fine, dark hair. She wondered if he perhaps was in love but when she had asked him he had become extremely defensive, denying it adamantly.

She put her hand on the door to the barracks and was about to close it but then she heard the sound from within.

“What is the meaning of this?”

They had frozen, all with identical guilty expressions like naughty children. Tauriel crossed her arms as she stood at the entrance to the training hall.

Legolas had his twin daggers pressed against Teodor’s spear. Anawen was in the process of retrieving her arrows from the target practice. All the others were there too.

Legolas was the first to recover. “It’s my fault. I asked them to come and keep me company.”

“No Legolas you needn’t say that just to cover up for us.” Teodor cut in, frowning. “We wanted to come.”

“It’s true,” Anawen said. “Legolas used to come by and train by himself but then Teodor found out and then Emaroth saw him leaving, and I missed several marks last time so I wanted to practice-” And then everyone was jumping in, all loudly declaring themselves to be the instigator what appeared to be a very late night training session.

Tauriel put one hand on her temple - she felt a headache coming upon her - and held the other out in front of her. “Wait, just how long have you all been doing this?”

***

“It took me awhile to untangle it all,” She said. “But it seems the Prince had heard that the patrols were stretched thin between the North and the South, and that someone had mentioned there wasn’t enough guards up for the task.”

Thranduil stroked his wine glass. “The War against Angmar is none of our concern so long as they do not trespass on our lands. As for this so-called Necromancer in Dol Guldur, we will keep a strict watch over it, but a watch only.”

Tauriel frowned. As the stories go the King had once been a great warrior. Even now looking upon him she could well believe it. She knew how to take the measure of a soldier better than most others. Stronger in body and spirit was Thranduil than anyone else she had seen in the realm. But why was he so loathe to act? She had heard King Thingol in the fallen Kingdom of Doriath had been the same way. But she not understand it.

Her report was not finished however. “The Prince inspires loyalty.” She said. “He is a natural leader. They would follow him anywhere now. Also he has shown great promise in the way of fighting, no doubt because of the amount of time he spends in the training hall.”

She left out the part about Dairon misplacing the key.

***

They had come across the man completely accidentally.

When Legolas’ thrown blade had caught the troll straight through his skull, he had pitched forward dead. What they had not expected was the man who surfaced from beneath him, spluttering and struggling, several moments later.

“You have saved my life. He was just about to kill me.”

“I didn’t even see you there.” Legolas said, surprised. “Who are you?”

“I am Araphant of the Kingdom of Arthedain, son of the King.”

They all looked at each other.

“You are very far from home.” Tauriel said. “These is the realm of the Woodland King.”

“Yes I know. And normally I would come to beg his blessing before crossing through his lands but I do not have time. A party of Orcs has passed through here recently, they waylaid our party. I had been travelling from one of the Dunedain settlements in these parts to Rivendell to beg to aid of Lord Elrond in an important matter. But the Orcs came upon us in the night and they have slaughtered my friends and made off with some of the heirlooms of my people.”

“Yes we know about the orcs,” Dairon said. She had taken to keep him close to her. No longer was he giddy and vain, instead his mood had become dark and morose of late. She couldn't understand it. “We have been tracking them too.”

“Will you aid me then in destruction of the foul creatures? I have heard of the wisdom and the valor of the Eldar kind.”

Teodor straightened from the ground. “The orc trail leads north, out of thel cave.”


Arawen had picked up a misplaced knife. It hissed in her fingers and she abandoned in quickly. “This is is the mark of Angmar indeed.”

“Beyond this cave is no longer our land.” Dairon said. “We have been strictly instructed not to be involved in War against Angmar. If you seek help from Elves, you would be best to look towards Imldaris as was your initial plan. Our King has no love for men, even the men of the West.”

“Then I shall continue alone. By the time I reach Imladris, they will have reached Angmar and it will be too late.” The man was tall and grim. He carried nothing but a broken shield.

“You will die.” Legolas said slowly. “I have heard of the strength of the Dunedain, but by reckoning there are at least a hundred of them. They are all heavily armed and you, not at all.”

“Still I must avenge my friends and recover what the orcs have taken. Since the Kingdom of Arnor has fractured we have lost so much. Among the treasures there a thing that cannot be allowed to fall into the Witch-King’s hands. I shall not go down in history with such shame upon my name. It would break my father’s heart and I fear it would be the end of him. Will you give me one of your Elvish blades?”

Legolas lifted it out of his belt and hesitated. “I will do more than that.” He said. “I will come with you.”

***

“The Prince never deliberately disobeys one of my orders.” Tauriel had said in a previous report. “It is just that sometimes he forgets to ask.”

“He is accustomed to having his own way.” Thranduil had replied, apparently not much concerned. “He is my of my lineage after all.”

***

Where Legolas went Teodor was sure to follow. And where Teodor went Arawen was sure to not be far behind. They were young people and these were things yet half-formed and untested by real trials, but strong and sure enough in their own way.

One by one they followed the man of the West out of the cave until she was alone with Dairon.

“The King has specifically told us not to involve ourselves with the War against Angmar!” Dairon repeated himself. His tone was shrill, almost strident. “The Prince is deliberately disobeying his orders!”


Tauriel who would have said the same thing if Legolas had but given her a chance, frowned at her friend. She could see there was some shadow over him. He was dear to her but now looking at him she found that there was something in his dark gaze she did not like.

That was what made her change her mind.

***

They caught up with the Orcs at twilight the next day where the Forest River passed out of Mirkwood and into the feet of the Grey Mountains. Here was their last chance to turn back.

But man lifted his sword and Legolas nodded. There was some understanding between them that she didn’t understand.

It didn’t matter. Not at that moment. The song of valor sang in Tauriel’s veins.

***

We should have turned back.” Tauriel said. “I should have made them. Dairon was right, he tried to warn us. Please try to remember that about him, my King."

***

They slaughtered the Orcs with great efficiency and only minor injuries. Afterwards when Araphant would speak of the fight to his friends - the first time he had seen Elves in combat - he would say, “The way they move, the sureness of their footwork and and the swiftness of their handwork, truly they of a kind apart. Such beauty entwined with such deadliness, it is a gift worthy of envy. I understand now the fall of Ar-Pharazon.”

Emaroth got a knife in the shoulder for his troubles and Teodor was limping. Tauriel lifted her hand and touched Dairon’s scarred cheek.

“It will heal.” But likely it would scar. He had been cut by a Morgul blade. He hissed and turned away from her, hiding his once-beautiful face in shadow.

“Won’t you tell me what it is that ails you?” She asked him.

But he shook his head. “It is too late. He has forsaken me.” His voice was filled with despair.

Beside them was the stolen treasure horde which the Dunedain had ben so anxious to reclaim. Chief among them was a cloth-covered object which he had looked for first. She had seen the man’s face slacken with relief when his fingers moved across the round surface.

Tauriel saw Dairon lifting it up now, beginning to uncover it.

She looked for the others. Legolas stood with the Dunedain upon a hill not too far away, talking. The Numenorean pressed something into his hand. Another one of the heirlooms perhaps?

Legolas opened his hand and looked at it. She saw a strange expression struggle across his unguarded face.

Surprise. She would recall in later days although it some time later before she could face the memory of that day with a clear head. Sorrow. He showed his feelings so easily, Legolas did. He had not yet learnt to hide his face.

He closed his fingers around it and bowed his head to the Dunedain Prince.

“My, that is very pretty. What is that?” Emaroth was standing behind Dairon, looking over his shoulder.

Dairon started. The older elf then push him off roughly.

***

“My Lord Legolas did not expect anything.” Tauriel whispered against the dangerous silence of Thranduil. “The battle was over. He was deep in conversation with Prince Araphant.”

***

It was not until the knife flashed out that anyone realized what was happening.

The man screamed out, “No you mustn’t look!” But it was too late.

Dairon was laughing hysterically and suddenly the glade was filled with the sound of a dark, fell voice. It thundered in Tauriel’s ears and she could not hear it. The very speech sickened her and darkened her vision. She fell screaming to her knees to the ground, covering her ears.

Prince Araphant ripped it - whatever it was - out of Dairon’s grasp and covered it up with his robes. The voice disappeared. For a moment there was stunned shocked silence.

Then Legolas stumbled backwards with a surprised sound, the knife in his breast.

***

“Even now,” Tauriel said through her sobs. “I do not know what it was or whose voice spoke. Only that it seemed the very sky turned back and Dairon was seized with madness.”

“It was likely a palantir,” Thranduil said. “One of the seeing stones of the lost island of Numenor. As for the voice, I can only guess.”

“I was the Captain of the party, I should have known better. The fault lies with me.”

"Your role in this matter cannot be forgotten. But tell me Tauriel, where is Dairon now?”

“He is below in the dungeons. My people are watching him.”

“I will send my own Guards to relieve them of him." The King's voice was calm and remote and his face, as ever, was veiled.

***

No guards came to seize her. She was left alone in the room with Legolas.

She sat next to his bed and looked upon his face. They were in the King's chambers, in a room she had not been in before. Teodor had been at the door some moments ago, raising a fuss, but the guards were under orders to not allow anyone in. From the sound of it, they had had to physically carry him off. But since then there was only silence.

Legolas let out a long breath. Some of the color returned to his face. Tauriel was filled with relief.

He had become so very dear to her. Even without noticing it he had won her over just as he had done the others. She touched his hand, it was balled into a fist. There was something clutched within it.

The sound of the door swinging open in the hall outside caught her attention. Something being thrown roughly across the ground, and then she heard loud sobbing.

“Forgive me, my King!”

The voice made her start for it was Dairon’s. Tauriel let go of Legolas’ hand and rose shakily to her feet.

“You must forgive me! I did not know what I was doing. A terrible voice spoke to me- it knew things about me, My King- I do not know how it knew. It possessed me. It made me do it. You must believe me.”

“The palantir but looked into the darkness of your heart Dairon but it did not put it there. It was an evil of your own making.”

“I could not control it. You have been so cold to me of late, no longer do you speak to me of anything except to ask how the Prince is doing. It is as though you have forgotten all that we once- shared. It is too cruel, my King, my love! Too cruel!

Tauriel’s jaw fell slack. Was that it? She had been so blind! But then who would have guessed it? The Queen had been dead for nearly a hundred years, it was not beyond belief, but still once in love, Elves were supposed to love for a lifetime.

Perhaps it was that way for Dairon. The raw pain in his voice twisted her heart.

“The voice it told me that you no longer cared for me, that you never cared for me. I could not bear it. A madness seized me. Please forgive me, my love.”

“I cannot.” Thranduil’s voice was as hard and cold as the snow upon the mountains. “For the flesh you have cut was my flesh and the blood which you have spilled was my blood. It is unforgivable” There was the ringing sound of a sword being drawn. Tauriel flew to the door and then froze with her hand upon the handle.

“No my King I beg you- you cannot- I love you.” The words were filled with abject desperation. "I love you!"

“Your love means nothing to me. It is sickening to me to hear. Elves do not slay other elves and so I shall not kill you. But with this mark I carve on your face, I henceforth banish you. This mark will tell all that see you of your crime against your kin. No other Elves will shelter you. You will wander alone and friendless until the end of your bitter days.”

Dairon let out a wild cry. There was the sound of guards moving; his loud, keening cries could be heard echoing through the halls as he was dragged away.

Tauriel realized she was standing beisde the door, frozen with her hand on her mouth. Her shoulders shook tears, she struggled to swallow the sounds. It was too cruel, too cruel! 

When finally she turned around she saw Legolas’ eyes were wide open.

Her heart ran cold. How long had he been awake? How much had he heard?

He said slowly, raspingly, “Eavesdropping is the pastime of base creatures.”

For the first time since she had met him she could not read his face.

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