This is it, guys. I’m pretty sure this is the best thing I’ve ever painted. This is my peak. I’m soaking it in. I wanted to paint the Claire Danes fiber-optic dress as Rose Tyler’s wedding dress and it turned out better than I ever could have hoped. The Doctor would swallow his tongue. I hope you like it!
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
Truth is, she does. She might not be completely aware of it - she isn’t of most things regarding herself - but she owns the universe. Or, at least, a portion of it. The portion that pertains to their little metal hull hurdling into danger, stars and more danger. This little universe is the one she can be considered a master of.
She is no captain, she would fire back if exposed to this idea. But she is his ears and mouth, his words and his social cues. She is the war-stopper. Soft woman she is, but her words of steel are not to bring harm. Not once, not ever. Though sometimes… There are accidents she could not account for; some battles are not meant to be stopped as much as they are meant to be delayed. This one was neither and so they ran for it.
Silently she lies on the tall meadow, so much so they are perfectly in disguise from the ones who seek them. Calling out their names with voices they know so well, pained beyond their limits. Yellow flowers and red petals stick to her loose hair, her back against the wet floor of the woods. She has her eyes closed but her ears have never quite been this open. They are leaving now, she wants to tell him but she can’t afford to risk it all and so she pats quietly the floor until she hits a fist that is warmer than a rock though it is as steady and strong. We are safe. He trusts the unsaid and she sighs under the disguise of roses.
He goes so far as to think she owns the universe.
She owes him his life many times over although he claims it’s only his job. She will nod and smile at his remarks about how it is actually perfectly easy if you are any good at being a doctor to mend a broken rib (this isn’t the dark ages, Nyota). However, she cannot imagine how it must be for him to do it in the one place he’d rather not be in this universe (any place other than home is unsuitable, he’d explain. and by home he means earth, she’d gather.) and to the people he’d grown to love as a family.
A family that simply could not stop running into danger, apparently. She had seen it before, this sinking feeling at its worst. How he was as broken as the man laid down on medbay. And how he managed when all but the few who had pledged allegiance to the man in question as well as the fleet had given up. The man on that bridge who they all almost lost.
It had never gotten that bad again and she hoped for his good that it never did. But he was, indeed, a miracle worker wasn’t he? and in the end, as usual, he saved the day. She could never fully apprehend how he managed but he always seemed to pull himself together by the bootstraps and simply make it work.
Even when they found themselves stuck in a broken part of a ship who managed to crash but not burn by sheer dumb luck and he had to stitch her back up so she could find her breath again and work her magic… Even then, he was a master of his own destiny. She went as far as believe he could run the universe better than any of them - i’m a doctor, not a…!, he would fire back if he heard such a thing but who would be best to mend a hurting universe than a doctor?
She draws in, finally, a breath that doesn’t feel like it’s ripping her insides apart and if it didn’t hurt to lean forward she would hug him. ‘ Thank you, Leonard. ‘ she says & he draws his hands away from his face for a moment to reply except the comm finally gives a signal and she rushes over in hands and knees, like a toddler, to speak their way back to the stars.
SEND A PROMPT AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE OF OUR CHARACTERS. // FOREVER ACCEPTING.
Tauriel still hears his laughter, in every rush of leaves of the lonely forest. She, who once loved to walk under starlight, now cannot help but agree that it is a rather cold light. Because it is memory; pure and precious and painful, and it reminds her of the things she’s loved and lost. She favors sunlight now, warm and bright like him, as she walks alone among the trees.
She watches the ages twist and pass. She sees the dwarfs, thousands of them, come to the mountain. There’s always food in the path of the traveling companies, never a single spider, and they pray their thanks for Mahal.
When the lonely mountain is abandoned, Tauriel weeps. So much was lost because of its stone halls - so much sacrificed for nothing. It was yesterday, it was eagons ago. She watches Esgaroth flourish and decay, from afar. She senses the evil awakening in the west. She hears rumours of war and she wonders if they know. That war is useless, worthless. That all war ever does is take those you love away. It’s what she tells Legolas when he comes begging for her to join him in battle. He argues that millions will die at the hands of the dark maia. She catches herself repeating the same words Thranduil once said to her; that all mortals are bound to die, that fighting for them is fruitless.
She’s no longer a warrior, she figures; her daggers long lost, her bow long forgotten. She wonders if she’s even an elf still, so long since she last belonged among her own folk.
But she feels it; the call for the immortal lands. The need to leave this world that no longer belongs to her kin. She refuses to part. She refuses to leave the land that gave her the only thing she still holds close to her heart. She can still hear him singing to his brother in the murmur of the rivers. He’s everywhere.
And that is probably the reason why she cannot just let herself lie down and die, she believes. Because Mirkwood is so full of him - the whole Arda is filled with memories of who he was, the things he’s done, the places he’s seen. She cannot close her eyes and miss it. Because seeing him in everything hurts, but not seeing him at all is a fate worse than death. Because she’s the very last one who remembers him, and once she’s gone, all memories of him will be gone from this world with her. And then Kili will be dead again.
The second time Legolas finds her, Tauriel is contemplating the sunset. He talks of departure; the end of the time of elves. He talks of the last ship to Valinor, and a last chance of reaching home or dying in the land of Men. But he also talks of hope, of dwarves allowed in the halls of Manwë, of Beren and Luthien, Elessar and Arwën, and a kind of love so strong that could speak to the heart of the mighty Valar. That could grant a chance of happiness.
Tauriel flees to the grey harbors. Her feet barely touching the carpet of leaves, his voice more alive in her ears, her eyes eager for his face, her heart lighter than ever, she - daughter of the forest - leaves the forest behind her. For if, indeed, the Undying Lands were the paradise she heard about since childhood, he would be there. For Tauriel could not ever picture a kind of heaven where Kili would not be at her side.
alright so i was gonna do a cute little edit but i have loads of school work to do so i’m just gonna make this quick. i planned on doing a follow forever over the summer when i hit 200 but i decided to wait until i hit 500. sooooooo, here it is.