Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the Hobbit! Now, Merry Christmas, first of all, to all! Even if you don't celebrate, it is a celebration of Jesus's Birth, and I wish you all the best!

This was a request from my friend Emily for Tauriel/Legolas. Merry Christmas, Emily!

(And I have never read the Hobbit or LOTR. I shall soon. Forgive the inaccuracies.)

Tauriel made a quick assessment of her person; her slick bow, carved from a yew tree's flesh, was still at her shoulder. Her arsenal held her arrows; she touched the thin, bony knife at her boots. Still there. Even though that Dwarf had seemed almost . . . civil, one couldn't be too sure when said Dwarf is a prisoner in the Elven cavern fortress.

"What were you and that Dwarf discussing?" Tauriel turned to see Legolas higher up on the steps of the staircase she was descending. She did not say anything for a moment, instead taking the time to perceive the tone of Legolas's voice. It was questioning, and almost . . . annoyed. Rarely did Legolas become so temperamental after a battle with the Giant Spiders.

"His name is not Dwarf, Legolas," Tauriel said, raising an eyebrow. She turned on her way and went down the stairs.

"But can you tell me what it was he was telling you? What bewitching tale he was using to escape his cell?" Legolas asked, his voice lesser in hot temper and more curious as he came down the stairs quickly, his lithe legs immediately taking up the space between them and keeping pace with her steady stride.

Tauriel knew that he was, as the Elven Prince, allowed to use his higher rank to urge her to speak, but he instead sounded almost . . . patient. . . And she remembered the words of King Thranduil. Her jaw tightened at the mere thought. Her heart picked up again; it was all too strange to even entertain the thought of the magnificent Legolas even showing her a care when she was just the head of the Guard. She didn't answer him for a moment because she had lost the train of thought she had been occupying. Suddenly, she realized he was awaiting an answer as their endless walking took them to the weapons arsenal of the fortress. She cleared her throat. "Legolas, King Thranduil wants us to clear out the rest of the Spiders from the Elven lands. Out into the rest of the realms."

"That is a simple enough task," Legolas said, as if they were just going to go on a stroll at sunset.

"Shall I send out scouts to locate the nests, and then we shall head on with squads to take them out?" Tauriel asked, hoping that the talk of the task ahead of them would distract the both of them.

The sun was leaking through several of the holes of glass in the ceiling. Even now, as they were heading towards the lower levels of the Elven fortress, beautiful light filled the air, showing all the rooms and doors all carved into the fortress. It was a beautiful place; one of Tauriel's favorites of all the Elven buildings.

"Is it not enough that we have taken down a nest today? Must you go out into the fray once more without even the slightest of rest?" Legolas wondered, his head cocked to the side. In his hand rested his bow, as if even though his voice said of his surprise at her choice, he had anticipated it far in advance.

"Is it far better to wait for the Spiders to invade our lands, kill our people?" Tauriel asked in a far off voice.

"'Our people?'" Legolas asked curiously.

Tauriel stopped moving for a moment, shocked and reprimanding herself for making such a foolish phrasing of words. But she straightened, and said, "I protect those of Elvish kind, and so I consider them my people."

"I rule over them," Legolas said.

"The King does, Legolas," Tauriel said, meeting his beautiful, clear eyes for just a moment, and nearly forgetting her power to breath when doing so. "Until his throne is removed from under him and you become the Elven King, you cannot rule over them."

"Which leaves me much time to spend with you," Legolas said softly.

Tauriel inhaled slightly. They had stopped walking, and he seemed very close to her. Fondness? She had only been in shock at hearing that word from Thranduil. But she saw it now in the clear, unabashed way he looked at her, in his eyes which shone like clear lights in the sky. "And how shall we spend that time, if not shooting Spider flesh with arrows, Legolas?"

"Not talking to Dwarf prisoners, that is for sure," Legolas said, exciting a soft sigh from Tauriel's lips. "It is unbecoming to be seen exchanging such conversation with the enemy, Tauriel. Word spreads fairly quickly. I do not want to see your name tarnished because of a Dwarf, of all creatures."

Tauriel sighed and stepped away. "Why must we spend our time fighting?" she asked.

Legolas smiled. He seemed to glow when he smiled. "It seems like all you want to do. I am ready to engage in any sport that captures your attention."

Tauriel could not control the laugh in her throat. "I find no pleasure in fighting with you, Legolas."

"Then why do it? Come, let us spend our time in the target shooting training areas here in the Fortress. It is too late to be gone searching for Spider nests. Take a target practice with me, Tauriel?" Legolas asked. "For I would find pleasure in challenging you there."

Tauriel said, after a moment of quiet breaths and patience, "I doubt practice is needed by you, Legolas."

Legolas smiled. "Amuse me, then. I set forth a challenge. Two arrows. The center of the target."

Tauriel said clearly as she turned on her heel to head down the hallway that led to the training grounds, "It is a challenge I hope you know you face to fail."

"Such confidence," Legolas said playfully.

"I fully intend to act upon my word," Tauriel said, once he had caught her pace and was merely inches of space from her face. And both of them caught the teasing, beautiful tone in her voice.

The training levels of the Fortress covered two ground floors, all covered with immense canvases and dummies. Trainers and helpers stood by, ready at all times to assist any royal or member of the Guard in bettering themselves. Many came down here to keep sharp, so always alert and always ready when a fight came upon them as a speeding horse upon the ground. Many also came down here for challenges. Pride was a great trait of the Elves, and so much was put upon such duels.

It was many times done at feasts, not at all drunkenly as like that of the Dwarves or the Hobbits. The Elves, after drinking their wine, were perfectly capable as they were when they were utterly sober at drawing a bowstring and launching an arrow firmly into the heart of the rough canvas. It was a heightened challenge, always, for much hype surrounded it, and much cheer.

But now, as the two Elves approached the targets, nodding to the trainers in greeting, there was no hype, no loud buzzing of the crowd. Nothing but a simple air of mischief, as if they were but two children, a boy and a girl, not a Prince and a lower rank Elf.

"Are you to shoot first or should I?" Tauriel said, her bow already taunt.

"Ladies first," Legolas said, the true gentleman that he was.

Tauriel nodded in his direction and then turned to face her opponent. Her stance was quickly taken up as her fingers slid the arrow into place. Her legs were strong and true, perfectly balanced, as she took a quick assessment of the target, steadied her bow accordingly, and then breathed. Legolas said nary a word as she stood there but for a moment, her eyes closed as her heart thudded in her chest. Then her eyes shot open like a cat's, and the arrow flew the air and tore through the center of the target, eating its way through the canvas flesh until it sagged a little from its landing.

Tauriel caught her legs back up to her body and turned to Legolas, nodding approvingly. "Would you like to take another shot?" he asked patiently.

The confidence of an Elf could be measured by if they took the second shot or not. Arrogance or pure talent were to be attributed to the Elf once all the shots were done.

Tauriel looked at her arrow, unwavering, and she said, "I am done. If I fail, be it on my own head."

Legolas smiled and said, "It looks like it quite hit the mark. I shall have a hard time in beating it." His smile was so incredibly warm and his confidence in her quite marked in his tone that when Tauriel stood back, she hoped that she would lose, just to see the smile of triumph on his face.

Legolas was easily the best archer she knew, which was saying quite a lot, as bows and arrows were one of the main weapons that supplied the Elves. But he had been at his training since birth, it seemed, and now as he took up his stance, one he was so easily able to get into once in the heat of battle, it displayed talent and so much practice. Taunt muscles could be seen in his arms, and Tauriel allowed herself to have her eyes look him over as he was about to shoot:

But then a cry rang out: "The Dwarves are escaping! The Dwarves are escaping through the brewery!"

Legolas's mind was quickly deflected from this challenge to the situation at hand. His hand went down as he collected his weapons. Tauriel already had her weapons prepared on her person as she ran to the stairs. Legolas sprinted and caught her pace as they hurried through levels upon levels towards the doors leading out the back by the flowing river.

"You will have to shoot later!" Tauriel said, her voice calm though her body was moving quite fast, sleek and graceful.

"Not at an enemy, but to beat your arrow," he said, his voice grim at the thought of battle, but also a little amused.

Somehow, a smile was shared between the two of them even now as they carried themselves to capture or shoot at escaping prisoners. For the thought of merely spending a moment or two to revel in the quietness and loveliness of one another's company was sustaining enough, even with the thoughts of blood and wounds ahead.

Thanks for reading!