A plot bunny finally got to me! I've been mulling over this story idea for a while now, and while sitting up late at night a while back I finally gave in, LOL!

So, this will be a three-chapter fic. There is no set time-period, but the general idea is right after the end of the LotR. I will be updating randomly, but all three chapters have been completed-just not fully edited.

Large sections of italics are flashbacks. :)

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!

Enjoy!

Tauriel stood tall, wind whipping her hair across her face.

Finally, after so many years, she had returned. War had forever scarred her, but she knew that what she had suffered was but a small part of what others had gone through.

Patting the old stallion on the neck, she swung back into the saddle. The horse was a gift from Lord Elrond, and even though the animal was old and weaker than most, he was still strong in spirit. She could ask no more of him.

"Let us go," Tauriel murmurred.

Taking the reins up in her hands, Tauriel stared at them for a second, letting the illusion fade and her true self emerge.

Scars covered her. Scars from flames, swords, and actions. Even her heart was scarred.

With a sigh, she replaced the illusion and tapped the horse with her heels, wheeling around to face Rivendell once more.

The Elvenking was due to arrive at any moment, to counsel with Lord Elrond before the elves sailed. Tauriel would rather face a hoard of Orcs than Thranduil, who was bound to be furious about his son joining the Fellowship and going through multiple near-death experiences.

But there was no other way.

The old horse bowed his neck, as if he could feel her pain. Tauriel's eyes stung as she let the wind carry away the tears in them.

"Come along," she murmured, voice cracking. Once again, she urged the stallion forward.

Arriving along an old, forgotten pathway, Tauriel guided her mount over the treacherous stones and pits littering the cobblestones. This path was but a memory, and it suited her perfectly.

Down below, she could see the enormous elk Thranduil insisted on riding clacking into the courtyard. A bitter smile crossed her lips as she remembered an argument she and Thranduil had had when the Elvenking insisted she groomed the massive creature. She had been young.

So young...

Tauriel stared at the beast in horror, eyes wide as she took in the giant antlers and stomping cloven hooves.

"My lord!" she squeaked out, "I beg you, do not make me care for the creature!"

Thranduil spared her barely a glance as he shoved her towards the elk's stall. "I assure you, Tauriel, he will not harm you."

Tauriel desperately dug her heels into the ground, panic tinging her voice as Thranduil literally dragged her into the beast's cage. "I will not groom him!" she stated in a quavering voice.

"Yes, you will," the Elvenking said grimly, large hands latching the door behind them.

Tauriel trembled behind the curtain of red hair covering her face as the elk blew hot air down on her, certain that any second the horrid creature would trample her beneath its hooves.

"Alert the Head Groom when you have finished," Thranduil said calmly, exiting the stall and latching it behind him.

Tauriel, too small to reach the latch, had stayed with the elk and stared right back into those big dark eyes, fear beating a hard tattoo in her chest. Eventually, she fell asleep, back rigid against the wood behind her.

She did not groom the elk.

Tauriel mused that that must have been her first act of defiance towards the Elvenking. Even then, she realized, he was constantly trying to bend me to his will.

The horse suddenly flung up his head, half rearing as he took in the scent of the elk.

Tauriel grasped for his mane, striving to bring his head back down. Eventually, she succeeded, and the animal calmed somewhat.

Slowly, she guided the quivering horse into the courtyard, bringing him up as far away from the Elvenking's mount as possible. She eyed the bugling animal with a hint of disgust, wondering if Thranduil realized the commotion his mount was causing. He certainly did not seem to be aware of it. In fact, it seemed he was ignoring the elk altogether, letting it tug and pull at the elves hanging from the animal's halter.

Across the courtyard, Lord Elrond was greeting the Elvenking. He placed a hand on his heart, inclining his head ever so slightly. Thranduil did the same, and then dropped all pretenses of courtesy. Even across the distance seperating them, Tauriel could hear each and every word.

"Where is Legolas?" Thranduil demanded, and although on the outside he was cool and unflinching, Tauriel could feel the fear as it ran through him in a dangerous undercurrent.

Lord Elrond's calm mask faded, and Tauriel's mouth twitched slightly in amusement as she slowly made her way towards them. She did not envy Lord Elrond's position at this particular moment.

"He returned safely, Thranduil," Elrond answered quickly, and perhaps a bit nervously. "I am not aware of his current location, but he is well."

Thranduil fairly wilted with relief, his hard bearing relaxing until he was almost slumping. "Thank the Valar," he breathed, then crushed Lord Elrond in a hug.

Elrond hesitated for half a second, then patted his old friend on the back as Thranduil released him.

"You cannot know how I have worried," the Elvenking said with a choked laugh, and Tauriel found that she sympathized with this ageless ruler of Mirkwood.

"Why does it hurt so much?" she gasped.

Thranduil stared at her with mingled pain and fury in his eyes. "Because it was real."

"Indeed, I cannot," Lord Elrond sighed, his always-present frown slightly more pronounced than usual. He sighed, fingering a button on his tunic. "Arwen..." He swallowed, then continued. "Arwen has decided to marry Estel, or Aragorn, or perhaps even Strider-I do not know what you call him."

Thranduil straightened slightly in surprise, and Tauriel drew in a soft breath of shock. Arwen was betrothed to Aragorn, who had joined the Fellowship?

Thranduil turned, boots ringing on the cobblestones, and Tauriel instinctively straightened her spine, lifting her chin slightly. Even after all this time, she still feared-and, perhaps, respected-the Elvenking.

Chilling grey eyes met clear green across several yards, and Tauriel knew in that one second when their eyes first locked that he recognized her.

And she was scared.

Quickly, ignoring the tendrils of fear and anxiety winding their way down her body, Tauriel stepped forward, her worn boots making a soft click each time she took a step.

"My Lord Elrond," she said with a nod, and turned to Thranduil. "My lord," she said slowly, with just a hint of distaste.

She did not bow.

"Tauriel," Thranduil said coldly, spitting the word like poison.

Lord Elrond nodded at her, and then quickly took his leave.

In one quick movement, the Elvenking reached out and flipped the hood of her cloak back. Tauriel shrugged out of it completely, and it hit the ground with a soft hiss.

Thranduil drew a sharp breath as bright red hair, the color of rusted blood, flowed down her shoulders and back.

Tauriel flicked it back completely, her hand grazing the hilt of her dagger.

"So it is you," Thranduil said softly, icy eyes searching Tauriel's, taking in the sharp lines of her face, recognizing the lines made after many long hour of strain. And then, with a flip of his hand, he brought his sword up to her throat. The cool metal kissed her skin, and Tauriel stood, unflinching. She was ready and willing to die.

The tip of the sword flicked away a stray strand of hair, and Tauriel knew that he was deciding whether it was worth it or not.

Slowly, resentfully, Thranduil lowered his sword, though he did not sheath it.

"You have changed," he finally said.

Tauriel inclined her head slightly, willing to make a small sacrifice. "I believe we all have, my lord. War does not leave all unchanged."

Indeed, even Thranduil bore the marks of many a long night's worry. There were new lines on his face, and a flash of pity for him shot through her. She knew what he hid beneath the seemingly smooth skin.

"Legolas does live," Tauriel said softly. "I have seen it." She took a deep breath, and let her mask fade. Slowly, it slipped away.

She saw Thranduil recoil in horror. She saw recognition flash in his eyes, saw him, after so long, fully understand.

"We all have scars. Some run deep, and some are mere scratches that will fade in time." He turned, and pain was boiling under the surface, hot and cold in turn. "Some will always be there, all your long life, and some wounds never heal."

Tauriel looked at him fearfully, wanting to tell him about her own scars. But she did not dare.

"We all have scars," Thranduil repeated sadly.

She did not ask again.

Slowly, Tauriel bent to pick up her cloak, draping it over her shoulders like a shield she could carry, replacing the illusion as she did so. It was almost comforting to let him see, to do away with all the lies.

A smile touched her lips. "We all have scars."

Thranduil took a step back, recognition painted on his face. "You remember," he said in wonder.

Tauriel drew the cowl up, her face vanishing in the shadows.

"I remember it all."