"If this is love then I do not want it. Why does it hurt so much?"
For once, the confident elf-maiden was worn by defeat. Tears continue to fall as she looks helplessly at Thranduil, trying her best to hold back the sobs escaping from her throat.
She was not ready for this. It was just not long ago when she first learnt and knew the phrase amrâlimê, not fully understanding what it meant yet hopeful that she will meet Kíli again, after he fulfils his mission with his kin, that one day, perhaps she can look deep into his dark eyes, always mischievous and laughing, and ask him if it meant the same as Meleth.
But now, here she was, crying soundlessly on top of the young dwarf's motionless body, her tears melting into his leather and wool tunic soaked in Orc and dwarf blood.
" Because it was real ", Thranduil speaks just above a whisper, an expression of the same pain across his face, a pain he never spoke of and never expressed.
An affirmation from Thranduil on any other occasion would have been a pleasant one, but not this. Her heart clenched hearing those words, as if there were two unseen forces gripping at the edge of both sides of her heart, threatening to tear it into two. Her shoulder collapsed and she gripped her face, trying to compose herself and failing badly. Tauriel inhaled a long breath, sliding her hand underneath Kíli's with the rune stone in between their palms and leaned in to kiss him, the first and the last.
Before her lips touched his, she felt a small gasp of warm air coming from the stationary lips of the dwarf beneath her. Shock, confusion and hope all came at once and she hurriedly drew her finger underneath his nose once more. There it was, so faint you could almost miss it, but surely, he was breathing!
" My Lord! Help Me! Help Him! He is alive! " Tauriel turns to Thranduil, her red hair caught in the first light of dawn as she moved with utmost urgency.
Thranduil wasted no time. As much as he despised the dwarves, he now understood what the Grey Wizard meant and that dark times are slowly creeping back to haunt Middle-Earth. It will take great unison between men, dwarves, elves and all creatures living in the light to keep the darkness at bay. The life of one dwarf can make all the difference.
He knelt swiftly and gracefully in one movement. With his palm pressed on the ugly wound stretched across the dwarf's abdomen, a soft Elvish chant left his lips and a small, pure and pale light foster from his palm and lingered above the wound for barely just a minute and disappeared just as he ended the chant.
" We need to return to Taur-nu-Fuin, to the fountain of Lenwë. I can do no more" There was no mistaking the urgency in Thranduil's voice. If immediate medicinal attention is not given, Kíli will be presumed dead.
Tauriel carefully caressed Kíli's face and stood up, her demeanour calm, her gaze determined. The sun now shone warm and soft, piercing the cold winter air with rays of light that bounced off the ice into mesmerizing colours more than a rainbow. Dawn has arrived. As with hope.
" Thank you my Lord." Tauriel whispers, her voice heavy with gratitude.
" We will make it. The eagles have arrived "
