This isn't new, I'm afraid. I found it, finished but unpublished, and decided to upload it, since it's been forever since I've published anything.


After the Battle of the Five Armies, Tauriel's dreams turn dark. At first, she can make no sense of them. She dreams of facing down other Elves again, but instead of her bow, she holds a long sword in her left hand. She dreams of killing the other elves, her thoughts consumed over and over with where is it, where is it, we must get it. What it is she seeks, she knows not.

She dreams of things less morally harrowing, but still horrible: battles fought against Orc armies more numerous than she could have dreamed, more terrible than the battle she had fought in, and with less hope of winning. Of demons of fire dominating a battlefield. Of men, allies, turning against her, turning the tides of a battle that should have been a glorious victory into a brutal defeat.

Tauriel dreams of torment, of agony, of jeering laughter. Of a figure greater than any she had ever known, radiating a power beyond that which she could have imagined, with an iron crown set with three jewels, radiant like the Arkenstone, but far, far more.

It was the sight the Silmarils that brought the realization that these were no dreams. These were memories: memories of a previous life. Memories of when she had been a he.

Maedhros stooped and looked into a small stream, clear enough to get a glimpse of his her? reflection, as if it was not something she he? had not seen for centuries. She looked like his mother, she realized with pleasure, and with a calm levelness that simply ignored the gibbering panic in the back of his mind. (He'd gotten good at ignoring that part of himself.)

Well. She had to admit that this made sense of a fair portion of her life, namely the part where she'd been found wandering the forest with no memories, and the part where she'd been willing to pull a weapon on her king.

(Maedhros found it wonderfully ironic that it had been him who had very nearly started a fourth kinslaying)

She wondered idly what she should do now. Going back to Mirkwood seemed a bad idea, especially with her memories of his first life back. She could go to Rivendell, she supposed, and try to convince Elrond that she was his dead 'uncle'. She was fairly confident she could do that one, but it didn't quite seem fair to Elrond.

Of course, there were still rumors that his brother was alive. Perhaps she should go try to find Maglor? That would probably be the most honorable thing to do. Of course, she had no idea if the rumors were just that: rumors, with no basis in fact. It was probable that Maglor had died long ago. Still, though, if she could find her brother, it might be good for them both. Probably not, though, as he really didn't think his luck had changed. At all.

Still, though, Maedhros-turned-Tauriel knew one thing, even as she stood to begin her journey to the coast.

Somewhere, far to the West, Tulkas was laughing.


The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies is a terrible movie. And Tauriel's actions are beyond crazy. But let's be honest, if she were a son of Fëanor in the First Age, none of us would bat an eye. Which is how this little insanity was born. Please review!