Tauriel felt the new life grow inside her. Like every elleth ever born she had full control over conception and could come with child only if she willed it so. The problem was that she was now wondering had it been a mistake. True that Kili was no Beren, at four feet and a half to her meagre Sylvan Elf five and a half. Yet he had he had promised to love her forever, even if he had enough hair on him to stuff three cushions. King Thranduil had such dwarrow hair stuffed cushions, heirlooms from Doriath, he had explained, so she knew how much was needed.
Three months had passed since they had groped in desperate, love filled embrace behind the coal sheds in Laketown and almost two months since the battle, yet there had been not one letter, nor a raven, not even a lice ridden THRUSH from HIM.
Hugging her middle she rocked side to side and continued on her dark musings. Could they be together? Would that obnoxious uncle of his allow their union? Would her obnoxious king allow their union? But, most of all, she angsted whether he still loved her as he said he would. The mortals did not love like the elves, she knew that. Would ... would he be true to his word that he'd move Mountain and Earth for them to be together?
A perfectly formed tear formed in her beautiful eye and slid down her alabaster cheek, falling off at her delicate jaw and splitting into sparkling water particles after it had struck the cold, uncaring floor.
AN: Elven conception follows Tolkien's Laws and Customs of the Eldar (LACE)