A/N: This is going to be a two-shot. I tried writing the whole thing as one, but then the word count became ridiculous, so it's now being split in half for the sake of my sanity and to be more manageable.

Tauriel is an elf, so I tried to write it as if time moved slowly for her. This chapter mostly deals with Tauriel after BOTFA and going to Valinor. The second chapter will deal more with seeing Legolas again and developing their new dynamic.

I already know how it ends, so I'll hopefully have it posted before the end of the month. Thanks!

Disclaimed.

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Tauriel: Dwarf-Friend in Elven Home

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"Why does it hurt so much?"

"Because it was real."

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It took years, but Tauriel did leave Middle-Earth for the safety and restoration of her race's true home, Valinor. Yet, to an elf, the time it took for her to return there had been but a fleeting span even for her as a younger First Born. Banished from the only home she had truly known, she knew not how to seek for comfort for her broken heart, cracked at first from banishment, broken further by the abandonment of her best friend, and then shattered completely by the death of a dwarf she knew she could have completely loved. The years helped dull the ache; however, a hurt of that kind never fully healed. Instead it severed sinew and bone like that of a Morgul blade, and the memory of the pain sat fresh in her soul, renewed on anniversaries or simple reminders. So, yes, one could say the years had been kind to the she-elf, but the sentiment held no value to one who dwelt immortal.

Living in Dale had seemed like a good idea at first. It was still near enough to her first home that she did not feel like an outsider, and it was close to the people she had fought to defend. They needed her, and at that time, she needed to be needed. She helped where she could: looking after Bain, Sigrid, and Tilda while Bard worked on rebuilding his home and getting his people settled, organizing the fighters, training archers, and setting watches on the surrounding lands, especially east and south. For the first few years, it was enough. Tauriel kept herself busy, but even in the night, when all the others slept, her heart ache returned, making her chest feel hollow and cold. Dale was lovely, but in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain, it was also the place where she had fought so hard and lost so much. The reminders, the scorched earth and the charred stone, cleaned and repaired, could not return it to its original form. The scars still remained as her keen elf-eyes could tell, and living under the shadow of Raven Hill started to wear on her until it became too much for her heart sickness. She began to feel cold and weak. Understanding her peril and still being too stubborn to give in, Tauriel took leave from Bard, King of Dale, and Dain, King under the Mountain, and started her journey west.

Lothlórien welcomed her. The trees reminded her of her first home, and Galadriel needed only one glance to know her sorrows. Tauriel stayed for some time amongst the trees, watching the stars and dancing by the Nimrodel where its tunes soothed her wounds and helped her heal. She began to feel warm again under the golden leaves, so she stayed. The wholesomeness of the land encased her, and it became the closest thing to home she had now, even though the loss of Mirkwood still echoed in her mind. She met Arwen Undómiel during the Lady's stay, and when Tauriel did not patrol the borders and needed the female company, they would walk together through the night, a pair of she-elves glittering in starlight. Tauriel learned from her more detailed histories of Middle-Earth and the bittersweet songs of their people, of Beren and Lúthien, of Arda before it was made round by Eru. And when Arwen was busy with her grandmother, she spent her time with Haldir. He respected her lethal skills, and she became an equal. She ran through the trees and killed any orc that dared to near its borders. Tauriel also appreciated that the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood would never dismiss aid, despite their secret home, and never allowed the filthy, black blooded brutes to survive anywhere near their borders.

However, when a roguish ranger entered the woods one day with a blonde friend in tow, the sanctity of her sanctuary became tarnished, and she froze. She had not been ready to see him again. Legolas had his own issues, she knew, but it did not sit well within her that he had left her without even saying goodbye after the battle. He had gone with her to track the orc-pack; he had defended her in the face of his own father; he had assisted her on Raven Hill… it was all true. For all her challenging him, for all her intent to help him become a better ruler, a more compassionate heart, a better elf, she really did try to be a good friend, yet he had gone. And it hurt. Valar, did it hurt, almost as much as watching the life drain from Kili's eyes and feeling the warmth leave his skin… Galadriel knew, obviously, and allowed her leave along with a sturdy Galadrim bow and a green cloak.

So, Tauriel wandered for a while after that. She had expressed the desire to see the world outside her realm once to Kili, while he was sitting in his prison cell recounting some of his adventures with traders. Even that memory stung… She did not seek refuge, rather she sought danger, hoping in some way that the trials would burn from her the pain and imperfections like dross from silver. Her hope continued to be that she could be better. She was young, she knew, and she only desired that more years would bring about a change within her heart and soul so she would not hurt so much, at least, so she would not think about the pain itself so much. She fought on the plains of Rohan and in the paths of the Misty Mountains. Sometimes, she wandered as far as the Brown Lands to the east, Lebennin in the south, Dunland and Enedwaith to the west. Her ears heard the rumors, and her heart understood their telling. By the time the news of Mount Doom's awakening reached her, Tauriel knew the simple truth: Sauron had returned and Middle-Earth grew more perilous by the day. She could not sit by and let it become stronger than her. That choice had been made for her once before, and her refusal of it had led to her banishment. So she fought. She watched in interest as Saruman fortified Isengard. She raided raids and scouted their scouts until one day, she found herself weakened by the sight of a fire moon rising above the horizon. She wanted to curse it, but could not find the strength to do so, for the memory gave her joy within its sting. Caught utterly off guard, the goblins caught her at the feet of the Misty Mountains. Tauriel fought as she could, but in the end, she was pursued until she found herself near the Bruinen. Injured in her attempts, she thanked the Valar as she found refuge across the ford. The waters rose and protected her, and then she was greeted by two tall, dark haired he-elves, who looked far too similar for it to be a coincidence, before she almost passed out from the exhaustion of her pursuit and the heaviness in her chest.

Escorted, well, more specifically helped, by the Sons of Elrond, Tauriel found herself in Rivendell. The elf-realm was completely opposite from all she had known. Nestled in waterfalls and rivers, protected by cliffs, and open and airy to the sky, she felt freedom. Elrond welcomed her, of course. Galadriel had mentioned the young she-elf might find her way there someday, and Arwen had mentioned her. He took her under his care, treated her wounds, and let her wander wherever she would. For a short time, Tauriel took delight in seeing Arwen again. They enjoyed each other's company for a time until the fair lady returned to her mother's people, and Tauriel was again, left alone. While in Rivendell, she learned Legolas had wandered with the Dúnedain for some years and had split from the ranger named Strider as the latter had business in the south that he could only see to alone. Elladan and Elrohir regaled her with tales, and she traded with ones of Haldir and his brothers. In the end though, the memories of Legolas, the disappointment and disbelief in his eyes, always made her heart ache, and they were almost always accompanied by the devastation that was Kili's loss. At that painful sight playing again behind her eyes, the ache turned into sharp pains through her chest. During those times, Elrond noticed that she did not glow quiet as much as a First Born should and noticed how she tried to rub her hands together for warmth. It concerned him, so he intervened as all older, wiser, world-worn elves did, and which irritated those who were younger.

Lord Elrond brought her news that Bard had fallen ill from old age, and Bain's coronation was set for the spring. While the news of Bard's impending death saddened her, it did nothing to intensify the pain in her chest for it was far too sharp to begin with. However, the news of his successes during life gave her great pride for her old friend. It had been twenty years since she had set foot in that part of the world, but for the sake of her former charges, she felt it necessary to see his children. So she went, just as she was sure Elrond had wished for her to do. Seeing the happiness of her fully grown charges, despite the grief of their father, was both curious and assuring to Tauriel. It reminded her that despite loss, there still could be joy. Dale had grown and thrived under Bard's rule, and now it was Bain's turn, and at his coronation, Tauriel could not have beamed any more than if she truly had been his mother. The dancing, the feasting, the music lifted her heart, and then it promptly fell when she saw a few familiar dwarven faces. Only Balin came to see her, almost as if sent as an emissary. He bowed with his snowy beard brushing the floor, and then produced for her a silver necklace with a pendent fashioned with blue and white gems that sparkled faintly, as if imbued with an inner light. It reminded her of the night sky.

"Bofur remembered hearing Kili say you belonged in starlight." Balin began, "It was your favorite kind of light, as an elf and all, he said. We hoped, what's left of Thorin's Company that is, you would accept this, Lady Tauriel, as a token of our goodwill, and as a reminder to us and to you, that not all Elves and Dwarves are enemies."

Tauriel smiled faintly at the white haired dwarf, knelt before him with misty eyes, and swept her long, coppery hair off to one side. Balin took the gesture in stride, and as gracefully as a boorish old dwarf could, he fastened the creation around the she-elf's graceful neck.

"I name you 'Tauriel, Dwarf-Friend,' my lady. Safe passage is granted to you in any dwarf-realm for the service you have done for our kinsman and our people."

She swallowed hard as her throat seemed to have a difficult time to speak. A single tear fell from a green eye as she replied in her thick with emotion, "I am honored, Lord Balin."

He gave her a reassuring smile, "Perhaps, we shall see you feast with us in Moria, once we have reclaimed it."

Tauriel stood as her brow furrowed, "I do not know how I would fare in dwarven caves, good dwarf, especially since it is still plagued by goblins."

"Ah, yes. Well, I am beginning to think of a plan for that! It will take some years to prepare, but I do not doubt our will to reclaim our homeland. We did so with Erebor! Why not Moria?" He replied with an audacious gleam in his eye.

She felt the need to remind him, so she spoke her words softly, "But the cost, Lord Balin? You must remember the cost."

His smile turned sorrowful, and Tauriel could see her own sorrow echoed in the old dwarf's eyes. She gave a nod of her head as her fingers lifted to brush her new pendant, "Thank you for your gift. I wish you every blessing on your endeavors, but I must away."

Tauriel left Dale with a still heavy heart and wasted no time in going to the Grey Havens. She stayed in the care of Círdan only long enough for the shipwrights to build a boat and send her to her true home. It was not the sea-calling that sent her there, rather the pain of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens, especially whenever she crossed paths with a dwarf. The ache would rise up inside of her again, and then she would focus on the coolness of the pendant around her throat. It only then occurred to her that somehow, the skill of the dwarfs had infused or captured within the gem the light of her beloved stars.

When she arrived through the shimmer of a grey curtain, the white shores on the edge of sight, she felt her weight lift from her heart, though the memory still remained in her mind. Brushing the pendant at her throat, a gesture that had become a habit, she waited at the bow until they made land. She disembarked to a celebration of elves singing and dancing and was taken to a place she could call home until she decided to do whatever she wished. This was Valinor, the Undying Lands, and a land of freedom from fear, evil, and pain. Time did not pass here. The darkness held no power here. For all the good things that yet remained in this world still dwelled here in Valinor until the arrival of Arda Healed.

She found peace and regularity for years, and really, what were years to the life of an elf in the Undying Lands? She walked among the Forests of Oromë, which she made her home, saw where the Two Trees once stood before the tainting of the world, heard the tales of the Simirils – and wondered briefly to herself if the Arkenstone had been one of the lost – traversed the Pelóri, and wandered on the white sand beaches. Once, she almost ventured to the Halls of Mandos, curious from Glorfindel's tales. She learned of Fëanor, and in all the knowledge she gathered, her wisdom grew, but ever she wore the necklace the Dwarves of Erebor had bestowed upon her. The sweet still tasted bitter if she dwelled on the memory for too long, but at least it was sweet.

Her predictable life was disrupted by the arrival of Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel, Bilbo, and Frodo, sometime later. With them, they brought the tales of the One Ring, the Fellowship, the restoration of Gondor, and the defeat of Mordor. Tauriel wondered at her friends, new and old, and their feats, and Galadriel brought her news of Legolas' sea-longing. Such news was not something Tauriel thought her heart wondered about, but Galadriel knew it did, as she always did, and gave her the news. He would come, but the honor and loyalty of Legolas Greenleaf kept him in Eä for the time being.

When Bilbo eventually did die, many of the elves mourned his loss with laments that lasted through the night and into the next day. They celebrated his life and felt sorrow for his loss, but being as it was Valinor, such sad things did not have long life in the presence of the Valar. Frodo mourned, and Tauriel watched from a distance as he walked up and down the white beaches, seeking solace in the sound of the waves. It did not take long for her to decide to move forward and intrude on his self reflection. She could see the shadow of grief on his brow and in his brilliant blue eyes. He gave a small bow to her, to which she replied,

"I heard the King of Gondor decreed that you bow to no one, Master Hobbit."

A wry smile upturned a corner of his grim mouth, "We are no long on his shores, my lady. I hardly think his orders stand in the Elven Home."

"But we owe you a debt as well, Frodo. You defeated the darkness that plague my people for thousands of years."

"I did not do it alone." He replied as he stared out to the eastern horizon, "Sam… he is the hero in my story, I think. He saved me from myself when there was no one else. He didn't lose hope when I did."

Tauriel gave a closed her eyes briefly as she understood what he did not say. A sad smile graced her features as she stated, "You miss him. You miss his friendship."

Frodo nodded, "He is my dearest friend; he is my brother. I told him he would not always be torn in two, and now I am the one torn. Bilbo was everything to me for so long, and now without him, I have no one who understands the weight I bore. I have no family. The land is free from pain but not necessarily loneliness."

Her brows knitted, "What of Mithrandir?"

The hobbit gave a chortle, "Who understands wizards? I have not seen him for some time."

"Can I not be your friend? I understand the loss of friends, separated either by death or distance. Maybe would could help each other?"

The hobbit looked up at her, studying her features for a moment, "Legolas? He talked about you sometimes. I think the closer he grew to Gimli the more he regretted his actions after the Battle of Erebor. Leaving as he did, not fighting to lift your banishment, being jealous of a dwarf who proved himself worthy of you."

She sighed deeply, "He is not the only one who regrets."

"But when he comes, you two can tell each other that you forgive each other, can't you? You are elves and have forever to return to your old friendship."

"I wish it were that easy, Frodo. I do not believe our old friendship will be enough. We have changed much, both of us from what I hear. We are not the same elves, so it would be unfair to assume the same friendship."

"Maybe it won't be the same, Tauriel, but the friendship of true friends can span all distances: those in leagues and years."

"Wise words, Master Hobbit. I know when Samwise finally arrives, your world will not seem so empty. Until then, may I do?"

He gave her a hopeful smile tinged with sadness, sadness that she knew would lighten as time passed for him, and he nodded, "I would like that."

… … … …

Sixty-one years after Frodo and Bilbo's arrival came Samwise Gamgee, a Hobbit Tauriel had heard of oft, especially from the mouth of Frodo. They were both exceedingly old now, even for their relatively long Hobbit lives. However, the important thing was that the two best friends were granted some time together before they too left the world. The loss of their companionship weighed on her heart for a while, but Tauriel knew she too would have her friend returned to her. She healed quite a bit in the easy presence of Frodo and Sam. There were still times when a memory would catch her unaware, but the pain stayed for only a minute, and she learned to be thankful that she had the times at all, for they reminded her to be content in the joy the small moments had given her.