Tauriel felt sleepy. Groin was at her breast and suckled contentedly. She led her thoughts wander. Half registering the scene she observed Sigrid feeding Frar. Indeed, dwarf seed appeared to be biased towards bearing male fruit. The odds being two to one seemed to be true. The ginger once again looked at her kinswoman's breast, noting the same sort of stretch marks she herself bore. She dozed off secure in the feeling that her breasts were nicer – although a mite smaller, hers did not have such vivid blue veins under her alabaster skin. Or at least not that many. Not that she'd ever voice this sentiment, perish the thought!, but knowledge that her boobies were prettier still felt good.
She came too when some martial music announced the end of the ceremony. Tauriel looked over the railing of the gallery overlooking the throne room. The gallery had an intricately carved stone mesh which sheltered the womenfolk from the eyes of outsiders yet allowed the dwarrowdams – now also her and Sigrid – to observe the proceedings of Court below.
Her cheeks, now much fuller than before the begetting Groin, light up at the sight of Kili besides his brother. The King's Hammer. The two Heroes of the Quest stood on the Royal dias and presided over the dispersal of the crowd of dwarrow worthies. Both Fili and Kili had a bearded dwarrow beauty at their sides, their wives, the Queen and the Princess of Erebor. Alfdis, a blonde of the Ironfist clan for the blond Fili, and Runhildur, a raven hair of the Blacklocks for the dark haired archer.
Tauriel handed over Groin, full and happy and sleeping, to his nurse, the grey bearded Inga. She pecked Sigrid's cheek and bade the other females goodbye and headed for her chambers. She wanted a quick bath before bed. She knew that once the affairs of state and court were over, Kili and Fili would retire to the arms of their loved ones. Their concubines. Their whores. This level of sneers she accepted and endured. But beware the dwarf that dared to mutter "mutant fornicating perverts". The ex-Captain of the Mirkwood Guard smiled fondly at the memory of executions of such vicious gossip mongers, of their corpses feeding the Royal Ravens.
Her post partum bleeding and spotting long being just a memory, her eyes twinkled in anticipation of the desire that she knew would well up in her dwarrow's eyes once she twerked her no longer bony arse, of his kisses there, of how she would draw Kili's steel rod of dwarrow make into the molten fire of her elven furnace ...
AN:
Inspired by Moonraykir and with some imagery influenced by kaotic312