The Golden Ones

IX - A Tale from Six Centuries Prior Pt. 9

Some days were better than others for Tauriel. All were nearly identical in routine, only her mindset differed. 

It was very easy for her to appear stoic and indifferent. When she escaped feeling, she was most productive. It became harder and harder to think with each passing day, so it was easiest to cease doing it at all. If she began to think of her parents, she would stop herself and push all of her focus at training. If she began to think of Legolas, to really think of him, Tauriel would just swing her swords harder. Others took notice. Once, she overheard Amathon speaking with Thranduil.

“Tauriel, this girl, she is unbelievable. When she shoots, I wonder if she was born with this ability, as we are born with the abilities to breathe and take food. When she fights with her swords, they are not weapons. They are merely extensions of her arms. If I could find how she does it, we could create fighters unlike any others.”

How simple it is, though, Tauriel thought, I serve my purpose with as few distractions as possible. These other members have partners, children, hobbies. Preoccupations that consume their minds.

She took each rising rank without batting an eye. However, she was capable of these things only on her good days. There were others, unfortunately. The suffering and the working concentrated themselves to specific times and never were allowed to overlap. However, this meant that Tauriel spent some days unable to even move. 

Members of the guard spoke frequently and freely of her parents. Not once did it occur to them that hearing some of the things wounded her so deeply. Tauriel wondered how widespread the knowledge of the manner of their death was. She couldn’t imagine it being very far, because one of the most often said things to her was, “You are just like your father, you know. He was always flinging himself into the danger, though I’m sure that’s not an enviable habit for your safety.”

Words like these she smiled politely to when heard, then robbed her of her sleep for many of their following nights. Only two did not speak these wounding words, and they were her saviors, Thranduil and Legolas. Actually, they discouraged that kind of talk and abruptly changed the topic. They were golden.

-

One morning came with an immediate heaviness. Tauriel had slept in her bed the previous night, feeling ill in the mind. She felt as if nothing could rouse her from her chambers. Nothing, except one unanticipated thought.

You are allowing grief to beat you.

Tauriel laughed incredulously. She, who had made it her life to become a fearless warrior was being destroyed by her own mind. Pathetic. How could you have allowed this to happen? Tauriel thought as she climbed from her bed. If you are going to do something about it, you must beat it. Tauriel reach for her weapons, but stopped herself. Going to practice is not conquering it. In fact, it is being conquered. When you practice, you run from it. You must run at it. And she knew where she had to go.

It was a path she had avoided taking for the longest time, but now she walked it with a fierce determination. She breezed through the pathways, headed straight for her destination. When she arrived, she yanked her sinking heart back up in her chest and threw open the door and stepped inside.

Her breath caught in her throat. Nothing had changed since the last time she had seen this place. Tauriel grasped something for support. She inhaled harshly when looking down to see what her hand had touched.

It was the harp. 

Memories flooded back to Tauriel of her mother relentlessly trying to teach her music. Tauriel took a raspy breath. She looked, and saw her mother, with her kind eyes, smiling up at her as she gently plucked the strings of the great instrument. Tauriel blinked. Her mother was gone. She sank to the floor, and tears poured from her eyes.