So Comes Snow After Fire

5.v

It felt good to be doing something for others, Tauriel thought as she adjusted the string of hares over her shoulder. The most painful part of those early days of exile had been the feeling of being cut off, that her actions had no relevance for anyone other than herself. Spending the winter in Erebor had done her more good than she had first realized, for her time there had taught her to be sure that her wellbeing—indeed, the simple fact of her existence—mattered to someone, to Kíli. And now, as a huntress for Dale, she once more had someone to serve with her actions. The wound of her banishment was slowly beginning to heal.

She continued to pick her way through the scrub at the base of the hills, half her attention on avoiding the muddy patches and little rivulets that still trickled down from the heights. The rest of her gaze was for the wide sky above her, which had turned the soft colors of mother-of-pearl in the late afternoon light. Before this winter, she had never seen so much sky, and though she had felt rather exposed under it at first, she was coming to love the unbroken expanses of clouds and stars.

A few moments later, she paused again, this time listening to the faint yet growing sound of hoofbeats. The rider was coming from Dale, and his path would intercept hers, though how soon she was not sure. Out here, without the omnipresent susurrus of wind through leaves and branches, sounds seemed sharper, nearer than they truly were, and she still had not quite learned to gauge distances by ear, as she could have done in her forest. She ducked down behind a tumble of stones and waited for the rider to come into sight around the shoulder of hill across from her.

When he finally cleared the hillside, Tauriel very nearly gasped. Even from this distance, she had no doubt he was an elf, one of her own Silvans. He rode at a leisurely trot and scanned the foothills. Was he looking for her?

Tauriel waited till he was opposite her before stepping into view. The rider reigned in almost immediately, and as she made her way towards him, he dismounted and stood waiting for her.

As she drew nearer, she recognized Thalion, one of the scouts who had once served under her. What was he doing here? Had he been sent with some message to Dale and stayed to greet her? If so, the gesture was a kind one; she had seen none of her own folk since their army had marched away from Erebor nearly three months ago.

"Greetings, Tauriel," he hailed her when she was near enough that he need not raise his voice.

"Thalion," she returned, "I am most well met."

She saw his eyes flick over her, taking in her lakeman's garb. Her own clothes had been in need of mending, and she had traded them for these practical, if slightly mismatched, garments.

"You have made new friends, I see. And hear," he added with something of a chuckle.

Tauriel might have been annoyed that he could speak so lightly of her situation, but she was—if not entirely happy—content today, and so she let his remark pass.

"Indeed," Thalion continued, "I would have come for you sooner, but some of your friends are not yet ours." He smiled then, a response to the incredulous expression Tauriel knew must be on her face. "You can't suppose I was going to knock on the doors of Erebor. Surely there was no harm in waiting, since you enjoyed the hospitality of the King Under the Mountain."

The prince, she corrected him mentally.

"I see I am not making myself as clear as I should," Thalion noted, his smile apologetic now. "Perhaps this shall do better."

He handed her a folded letter. Her name was inscribed on one side in graceful, if somewhat archaic, lettering. The other side was fastened with green wax that bore the imprint of Thranduil's seal.

"From the king?" Tauriel gasped.

"Indeed."

Tauriel found her hands were shaking. She slid one finger carefully under the sealed flap and broke the wax. Her heart pounding, she unfolded the paper, knowing that whatever she read there would fix her destiny for good.

Let it be known:

In view of Tauriel's selfless and courageous actions on the field of battle, her disobedience is pardoned and banishment revoked. She is requested to return to the Greenwood at her earliest convenience.

His Royal Highness

Thranduil

King of the Woodland Realm

She read the words a second time, and then a third, not realizing she wept until the ink on the page smeared and bled where her tears had fallen.