Chapter Text
Sometime before full sunrise on the morning of her 600th naming day, in the year 2864 of the Third Age, Princess Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, Captain of her father King Thranduil’s Royal Guard, was startled into wakefulness by a terrible burning sensation on her upper left arm. She struggled upright, pushing her blankets away and slid down the sleeve of her shift to investigate.
The painful sensation was so great, she cried out before she could stop herself. But her heart began to race even faster when she finally got a good look at her arm. It was glowing bright white and felt as hot as a forge fire! Through the murky haze of pain, she thought she might know what was happening…but Valar help her; this was most certainly not the Elven way!
All at once, and just as quickly as it had arrived, the burning pain was gone; less than a quarter hour since it had begun. As it subsided, Tauriel ran to her dressing table to look in the mirror. Her people did not burn! Every tale she had ever been told regarding a soul bond between Elves involved the soul mark being cool, almost icy to the touch, such that the bearer experienced a pleasant shiver in the presence of their One. Never this awful burning! As she studied her arm in the mirror, she saw what she had unconsciously feared she might; that this was definitely not an Elven soul mark. Among the Eldar, the mark manifests as graceful, silver Sindarin script encircling the bicep and proclaims the deep name of your true One. But the writing on Tauriel’s arm was not in Sindarin; nor were the runes she saw from any language she knew how to read. What race on Arda did these strange, thick, black runes belong to? What people could burn so hot as this? Tauriel wasn't certain she wanted to know.
Of lesser concern, but not insignificant, was that after more than five centuries without one, Tauriel had been certain she would never be soul marked. While it was not unusual for an Elf to be born without a mark, it was a common and long-standing belief that if one did not appear by the age of three centuries or so, it was considered not likely to happen. But she had made peace long ago with the idea of living her life alone and had focused instead on her duties as Captain of her father’s guard and Princess of her people. And she was content; after all, she wasn't to inherit the throne, nor would she be required to produce heirs. Both of those responsibilities would fall to her older brother, the Crown Prince Legolas, who would follow their father on the Antler Throne.
Yet for all of that, here she sat, awestruck and not a little frightened, on her 600th naming day, examining what was without any doubt, a soul mark. All Tauriel knew for certain in that moment, was that the true match to her soul had just been born somewhere out in the wide world, in a place beyond the Greenwood of her people. While she was scared about what all this might mean, she found that she was also...strangely...hopeful.
***
On the other side of the world, in the Khazad Halls of the Erid Luin, the cries of a new-born baby boy echoed around the mountain home. His birth was a rare juxtaposition of immense joy during a time of long sadness for his people, for his young mother was the recently widowed Princess Dis of Durin's Folk.
Only the day before, the Princess had received the terrible news of her beloved husband's heroic death in battle and in the unfathomable depths of her grief and despair, her body had betrayed her into a far too soon and difficult labor. The child arrived an entire moon too early, but the midwife attending the Princess held fast to the hope that the strength of the mother’s blood would prevail and see her and the babe through. And indeed, the greatness of the Line of Durin re-affirmed itself that day as the boy came screaming and healthy into the world, bringing with him enough resolve and fortitude for his mother to live to see more days.
When the midwife had cleaned him up and handed him over to her, the Princess gazed with mixed emotions upon her son. All at once and to her great astonishment, she saw that he had been born with a soul mark! This was a rare occurrence amongst the Dwarrow and was always cause for celebration as it meant the bearer had a true One waiting for them somewhere. It meant that her little Kili, for that was what she had named him, might be blessed to know a love like she and his father had shared. Of course, what she had absolutely not expected was that the brand on her infant son’s left arm would be written in a language that was not their native Khuzdul.
The customary thick black runes of their people were nowhere in sight, and in their place, she saw a not unfamiliar, flowing silver script that wrapped around his little arm like a cuff...and it was cool to the touch. Could this be an Elven brand? She began to panic and could feel her heart start to race. Dis couldn't read what it said but it definitely looked like some form of Elvish to her eye. She had no idea what implications this might have for her son given her people's colorful history with the Eldar, so she decided then and there she would tell none of this development save her brother Thorin, the King. Little Kili, along with his older brother, was now an heir to their kingdom.
The Princess shared a meaningful look with her midwife, and Aule bless her, the woman immediately and without needing to be asked, swore an oath of secrecy to her mistress. In time, if her son decided to share this secret with others, it would be his choice.