<sub>Fevered eyes narrowed in stubborn sheer will and motivation, gritting her teeth, Tauriel continued the chest compressions on the fallen Kingsguard. The blood from her comrade staining her pale hands and green sleeves as it pooled more and more from the male’s body. 

They were meant to lose Elves. That’s why the guards were so abundant - but the kingsguard were elite, the oldest and wisest; the un-expendable. They needed each life. Each life deserved to know what peace was, to know that they had not just died to die for dyings sake, that there blood sowed the seeds of freedom and strength. 

With each compression she seemed to slow, to haunt farther forward; a wilting flower in search of the sun. Tauriel weakened momentarily as she hunched over the guard, panting as she took a moment to gather herself. 

Slowly trailing her hands to the guards face to stroke his chilling cheek leaving a smudge of blood against his sharp cheekbones, of all the ages shes faced she only seemed to know time well when it left.

“We shall bury our dead.”</sub>