Author's Note: In December 2013 I went to the cinema to see DoS and fell in love with the pairing Tauriel/Kíli. This is my take on their story. This will mostly be romance, but there will also be a little plot. Please do not read if you are averse to this pairing. I am also aware that what is going to happen in my story will probably not happen in the third movie - this is exactly the reason why I am writing this.
The rating is M because there will be mature content in later chapters. I will post warnings.
This is the first fic I am publishing - please be gentle when you review!
And finally: Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.
When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.
Paulo Coelho
Prologue
"Do you think she could have loved me?"
Fíli winced, quickly glancing at the other occupants of the room in Bard's house, hoping that they were too busy with whatever it was they were doing to pay attention to Kíli and his words. What was his little brother thinking? Speaking of love to an elf, of all beings in Middle Earth. He could already picture the excruciating embarrassment that Kíli would feel upon learning of the words that he had spoken, springing from – no doubt – some feverish delusion of his. Who knew what Kíli was seeing in his mind's eye?
Fíli shifted his position on the bench in a corner of the room and risked a glance at the she-elf's face, trying to gauge her reaction, hoping she would not be mortally offended by the young dwarf's ramblings. He would never have thought to be able to say this about an elf, but he desperately wanted her to stay – right now she and her Elven healing powers were the only chance his younger brother had.
To his utter astonishment, however, what Fíli saw on the elf's face was not anger or offence. Nor did her face display the stoic mask that he had come to associate with elves, touched only by the tiniest degrees of bemusement or, rarely, distress. Instead he saw a wide variety of emotions wash across the red-haired elf-maid's face – hesitation, curiosity and something that Fíli thought looked like genuine affection.
He watched Kíli struggle to lift his arm, his fingers brushing against the slender hand of the elf ever so lightly, their fingers entwining delicately, tenderly. Fíli frowned and looked away. This was not possible, was it? How could… Yes, Kíli had been unusually withdrawn ever since they had left the halls of Thranduil behind. But his injury and the infection it caused surely served as a satisfying explanation for this circumstance. On the other hand, while imprisoned in the Elven King's palace, he once or twice thought he could hear his younger brother speaking to someone, someone with a decidedly un-dwarfish voice… But still…
Glancing at Kíli's face and seeing the she-elf's emotions reflected on his face, Fíli heard himself say, "Oin, Bofur, come on. We had better make sure that those damned orcs are not still lingering somewhere outside…" Turning to Sigrid he added, "Thank you and your sister for your assistance. You have helped my brother a great deal. Rest now. I have a feelin' in my gut that there is more trouble lying ahead of us."
What are you doing?! he shouted at himself in his mind. You cannot leave Kíli's side while he is still in agony. You promised your mother to look after him, always.
He almost had to physically struggle to overcome his brotherly instincts and push himself away from the table, Oin and Bofur following him to the door with confused looks upon their faces. Whatever was – was not! – going on between Kíli and the she-elf, the least he could do was to try and reduce the number of witnesses.
He groaned inwardly. If word of this latest foolishness of his little brother got around among the other dwarves, the poor lad would never live to see the end of it.