(This fic is based on a prompt from .com and was written in collaboration with the fabulous Estel-of-the-Eyrie)

Months passed, and the mountain slowly recovered from the onslaught of the Battle of the Five Armies. All the injured were now fully healed, although the mental scarring would remain for a while more; regardless, the mountain was celebrating the full recovery of the king, his heir and his brother.

It was a miracle that Thorin, Fili and Kili had survived - if the Elven healers were not nearby during the battle… you found it increasingly difficult to consider the alternatives. You couldn't dare think about a moment without Kili. He brought joy to the lives around him, especially within the life of his lover - you.

Those burning days and freezing nights that you spent waiting beside his unmoving figure in the healers', clinging onto the pygmy scraps of hope, wherever you could find them, you were adamant that he would not die. You refused to let the others tell you that it was a fruitless attempt. That he would not last the weeks, that Kili would not present you with that gleaming smile that you adored so much. That he would not do anything but lie still deep within the cold, sombre caverns long before his time was due.

The weeks turned to months, and you could feel you sanity slip. While Fili and Thorin was woken, Kili still remained as motionless as always. You often found yourself whispering into the night, pleading to whatever divine Valar was watching, to help save him.

Somehow, it appeared to work. One seemingly normal morning three months after the Battle of the Five Armies, you tried again, hoping beyond hope. You could hear the talk from the healers saying that he should just be left to slip away into the abyss. To leave him to die.

Nothing was said to Fili, they wouldn't dare, but they mentioned it to you, or at least, within your ear shot; they all thought that his state was doing something negative to your mind; but it was fear that warped your judgement. You refused to stay without him, Kili was the only one who was keeping you in Erebor. If he left, you were certain that you would leave.

But he didn't; within minutes of your silent pleas and sobs taking over, he grasped your hand. It was so gentle at first that you thought that your mind had finally cracked, and that you were imagining things; but when he called your name, however weak his voice may have been, you knew that you had not imagined it.

Bolting upright, you snapped your gaze to his face, to see his eyes opened. For the first time in months, you could feel your smile for real, not a façade to keep the others believing that you were okay.

Nothing mattered to you, and without a thought, you flung your arms around him; despite the small wince that escaped Kili's chapped lips when you hugged him, he used all of his might to hug you back, kissing your messy hair.

It did not take long for word to spread throughout the vast halls that Kili was well, not just barely alive, not just hanging on. You filled him in on all he'd missed, including the fact that Balin was leading a group back to Ered Luin to bring back Lady Dis and others.

Soon, a crowd led by hobbling, relieved Thorin, and slow-moving Fili, who required the support of two healers on either side of him as he walked, filed into the spacious infirmary to welcome Kili back from the brink of death.

And, if words could kill, a few of the strange faces in the group sought to send him right back.

"Now," one older maiden said to another, "if he could just look more like his handsomely bearded kin, he'll have even more reason to celebrate."

You and Kili heard it above the din of well wishes, above the many side conversations that had formed about Kili's resilience and his valiant fighting and how well he represented the line of Durin.

You both saw the woman's thin lips forming the poison, and saw her listener nodding in agreement, responding. "Indeed, shouldn't that fuzz be longer?"

Another person, a gentleman standing behind the two, said, "Fuzz is right. He has no real beard, poor ugly fellow."

"And isn't he supposed to have a princely braid or two? Certainly that would help."

"His hair isn't made for braids. It's made for scaring small children."

Giggles, snickers, snorts.

The hand holding Kili's tightened, and he quickly clasped the other on top of your brittle knuckles, gently running his fingers along the ridges.

"My darling, it's alright," he whispered, his sullen face revealing the opposite to be true. "Nothing I haven't heard before, long before we met. Good thing Mum isn't here yet." He tried to laugh, but there was no cheer to it at all.

"Kili," you sighed. You had no intention of saying anything more than his name. An apology filled your tone for the people's insensitive remarks, and at such an inappropriate time, at that! Who were those intruders, those gawkers who had clearly taken advantage of Erebor's felled front gate? Who were they - and who were the people in Kili's past - to talk about him so disrespectfully?

I'm sorry, Kili, you thought. I'm sorry for everything negative you're hearing now and for everything you've ever heard.

Remembering the weeks of high and low hopes that you would ever see him alive, smiling and talking again, you felt your annoyance and sorrow transform into red-hot rage.

"No! It is NOT alright!" You released his hands, stood and turned to the ones taunting him, your voice on edge as the tears fell. Thorin and Fili looked to where you were directing your comments.

"Kili did not miraculously recover from grievous injuries just to wake up to ridicule about his facial hair! So his beard isn't long and bushy and woolly - so what! Can't you appreciate that my Kili is living and not wasting away? Can't you-"

Suddenly, you collapsed onto Kili's bed, falling against him. Just that small amount of expended energy knocked you off your feet.

It had been too long since you'd had a proper rest and appetite, and you couldn't remember the last time you tasted more than a few sips of water. You were drained emotionally and physically. Kili wrapped his arms around you and politely asked everyone to leave.

"Who were those hairless wonders, anyway?" you heard Fili ask Thorin as they crossed the threshold out of the room

You hadn't quite fainted, but everything around you seemed tilted. You had fallen so that you were face-to-face with Kili, and his smile was the only thing that didn't seem crooked.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you," you said.

"You did not embarrass me. In fact, I saw just how much you love me, more than I ever knew. And I love you for that."

You returned his smile, not realizing that his hands running through your hair near your right temple were doing so purposefully until the tugs felt decidedly rhythmic.

"Your courting braid, my love," he said, finishing up. There was a small mirror by his bedside, and he handed it to you. "Long overdue."

The glow on your face bounced off his as you reviewed the lovely braid.

He cleared his throat and turned his head, pointing to his hair.

You blew out a nervous breath and gathered several locks of his fine hair, separating and then weaving the three equal sections, from top to bottom. You beamed as you looked him over, then turned the mirror around so he could see.

"What do you think?" you asked.

"I think…" His voice trembled momentarily before he grinned brightly at you. "I think I look handsome."