"What is that?" Tauriel stares at the cross-section of braised meat, bone, and fat-rather more of the latter-on her plate. It does not look entirely edible.
"It's ox tail," Kili says around his third mouthful. "It's my favorite."
Tauriel knows it must be; he has requested it for his birthday dinner. She is not sure she will share his opinion.
"I suppose you do not often get beef in the Greenwood," Dis adds with reassuring kindness as Tauriel manages to separate a mouthful that is not too fatty. The flavor, she decides, is good, though the texture is decidedly... gooey
Kili is watching her expectantly.
"It is ... rather unusual, but not unpleasant," she tells him at last. He grins, apparently knowing she finds it strange indeed. As he watches, she picks past melted tendon to find another bite.
"That's the best part," he notes, spearing her discarded pickings with his knife and claiming them for himself.
Tauriel regards him with amazement as he chews contentedly. "You actually like that?" she asks.
As he nods, amused, Fili chimes in helpfully with, "You should try it; You'll never get plump if you don't."
Kili shoots his brother a disapproving look that clearly says Tauriel's slim elven figure cannot possibly be improved. Fili simply smirks in reply.
There is not exactly a lot of meat on the bone once she has separated everything, but she eats what she can.
"Are you going to finish that?" Kili asks hopefully, gesturing to the bone on her plate.
She offers it to him, and he claims her leftovers as happily as if it were her birthday gift to him. Tauriel decides she will be satisfied if he is half so pleased with the real gift she means to give him later. She watches, more curious than taken aback, as he bites the last remaining morsels from the bone. Fili and Dis, she realizes, are watching her reaction closely. They must, she supposes, think her too refined to bear the sight of her beloved gnawing the tailbone of an ox as if he were more warg than dwarf.
She stifles her amused grin in her ale mug before helping herself to a second portion of oxtail. This time she forgoes knife and fork entirely in favor of her own fingers and teeth. Kili's mother and brother are starring at her now in open astonishment, but her attention is reserved for Kili, whose face is split by a grin of pride and approval. In that moment, she knows it does not matter whether she shares his relish for his favorite meal, dark dwarvish ales, or raucous drinking songs (all things she has sampled tonight). He cares simply that she has given his preferences a most enthusiastic try.
Author's note:
I don't usually write silly nonsense, but when I do, it is very silly indeed. This little piece of fluff was inspired by my own delicious oxtail dinner. My mom thinks it's disgusting, but my dad, sister, and I love it.