[After Tauriel settled her things in the room that has somehow been designated as hers, Tauriel had set off to explore, to try and find out what was going on, what had brought her here, where here was. She is not so unused to magic to write that out of the equation, but it has been a very long time since she spent any time with the wizards who passed through her forest, and even Gandalf hadn't been able to whisk her away from her post to deposit her somewhere else.
(Thinking of magic stronger than his unsettles her greatly, and so she tries not to think about it at all.)
There are people blundering out of doorways the same way she did just a few hours ago, but Tauriel avoids most of them, just as they seem intent to avoid her. In fact, she has almost made it safely away from the milling inhabitants of this strange place when someone calls out to her, a high, clear voice belonging to a young girl stopping her in her tracks. When she turns, long-ingrained habit has her bowing to the girl that had spoken to her, the girl's fine dress and delicate manners instantly marking her as someone high-born, perhaps a Lord's daughter, perhaps even a princess. Tauriel, well-used to royalty and those of noble birth, cannot help but duck her head respectfully to her as she bends slightly at the waist.]
My lady, I cannot. [Her hand settles at her hip, fruitlessly searching for the pommel of her dagger upon which to rest, and eventually she settles them both at her sides, standing with the stiff sort of posture of a soldier at attention.] My apologies. I find myself quite lost. I would that I could be of greater assistance. [It doesn't hurt to be kind to the lost human girl, for she looks as confused as Tauriel feels, and she has learned long ago that to be in the good graces of the rich and powerful is far better than the alternative.]
arrival
(Thinking of magic stronger than his unsettles her greatly, and so she tries not to think about it at all.)
There are people blundering out of doorways the same way she did just a few hours ago, but Tauriel avoids most of them, just as they seem intent to avoid her. In fact, she has almost made it safely away from the milling inhabitants of this strange place when someone calls out to her, a high, clear voice belonging to a young girl stopping her in her tracks. When she turns, long-ingrained habit has her bowing to the girl that had spoken to her, the girl's fine dress and delicate manners instantly marking her as someone high-born, perhaps a Lord's daughter, perhaps even a princess. Tauriel, well-used to royalty and those of noble birth, cannot help but duck her head respectfully to her as she bends slightly at the waist.]
My lady, I cannot. [Her hand settles at her hip, fruitlessly searching for the pommel of her dagger upon which to rest, and eventually she settles them both at her sides, standing with the stiff sort of posture of a soldier at attention.] My apologies. I find myself quite lost. I would that I could be of greater assistance. [It doesn't hurt to be kind to the lost human girl, for she looks as confused as Tauriel feels, and she has learned long ago that to be in the good graces of the rich and powerful is far better than the alternative.]