Kíli had known since the moment he saw her that she was not to be messed with. She could kill those awful giant spiders the way he sometimes had killed little rabbits. She had a grace in her even when she stabbed those monsters between the eyes, and when she finished them, not a single drop of their foul blood had spoiled her clothes. Kíli soon saw that she kept that same grace about her when she wasn't killing her prey. When she talked, her voice lingered in the air the same way the entrance of the mines always kept a faint glow of mithril. She could jump higher and farther away than anyone he had ever seen. She had healed him and made possible his recovery in a matter of days. He found out that she could also fight in a battle, not just in a little skirmish with a few orcs, and that somehow their blood still didn't find a way to her hair.
When he had found her crying in a nook in the ruins of Dale, weeks after the battle, he had thought her the most beautiful creature in the world. They are gone, she had cried, her face pressed against his shoulder. They are not coming back. Kíli knew that elves did not have to face death often, but he felt struck by the intense sorrow that she expressed, now that she was starting to assimilate what had happened. Kíli had never seen an elf cry, but her warm tears fell silently from her eyes to his neck, her body just slightly trembling in his arms. Even in her pain he felt amazed by her.
He soon learnt that she was also a skilled swimmer, a gracious dancer and prodigious wine-drinker. Her honesty, kindness and hard work were starting to make her a respected member of the new Erebor population (The elves of the Woodland Realm wished to help in the reconstruction, she said, ignoring the fact that she was the only elf who had stayed to help).
And while Kíli loved all that and more about her, sometimes he felt he could not match her. Not that he cared for long, and particularly not when she looked at him in wonder every time he told a story, juggled with several plates or matched her in the shooting training.
His brother had been sitting upon the throne for many months now and dwarves still came every week from all over Middle-Earth, little by little bringing life back to the grand halls that their ancestors had built. They all helped in what they could, and Kíli tried to help Fíli rule as their uncle would have wanted them to. However, Kíli would often get impatient if a meeting took longer than expected and he frequently left the dining hall early in the night. He would go to the back side of the mountain, near the hidden door they had used to enter Erebor in secret, and sat down to wait for Tauriel. Other times she was already there, perched on the edge of the quiet corner that had become theirs.
When Tauriel kissed him her lips were warm on his, and her tongue, curious and tender, always seemed to find the right movements to make his head light and dizzy. Her fingers traced comforting patterns on his neck and her hair would tickle his cheeks, just enough to make him smile. They did other things apart from kissing. Maybe not all the things Kíli would like to do with Tauriel, but he understood that she would be the one to lead the changes in that aspect of their relationship, when she was ready. He sometimes wondered how he would manage not to collapse at the sight of her naked beauty, seeing the effect that kisses and caresses had on him. But he would worry about that when the time came.
The air was cold that morning, and Kíli couldn't help thinking that Durin's day was drawing near, and with it the first anniversary of the restoration of Erebor, and also uncle Thorin's death soon after. He knew that Fíli was preparing some sort of ceremony to both celebrate and mourn, but he'd much rather stay on their private spot of the mountain, kissing Tauriel and braiding her red hair, like he was doing today.
'Why don't you braid my hair for a change?' He suggested, thinking of her long fingers touching him softly. Tauriel turned her head around, an absent smile telling him she had been enjoying his touch.
'You want to look like an elf now?' she answered teasingly as she got up to sit behind him.
'Who said anything about elf braids?' Kíli looked at her as if she'd given him the worst possible offence, his hand dramatically on his chest. Tauriel merely laughed as she started to comb his hair with her fingers, but Kíli turned to her with a smile in his face. 'I mean it, I don't want elf braids, they wouldn't look as good on me as they do on you.' Tauriel raised an eyebrow, ignoring the compliment. 'It's time you learnt how to braid like a dwarf, don't you think?'
For a moment Kíli thought he had given her real offence. Tauriel's body stiffened and her clasp on a strand of his hair tightened. Her cheeks blushed and she started mumbling something about not a good idea, really. It took him a few minutes, some kisses and rubs on her back to make her say what was the matter.
'I can't make dwarf braids' she said without looking at Kíli, her eyes intent on her own hands. For a moment, Kíli didn't really understand what she told him. Was it a rule of the sylvan elves, to only braid in their own way? The idea seemed stupid to him, but sleeping with open eyes had also seemed stupid. Besides, she seemed to like wearing her hair in a dwarvish styles. He was about to tell her to forget the whole matter and just let him rest in her arms, when Tauriel finally looked at him, a strange expression on her face.
'I've tried, but I always end making a mess of my hair'. And then, it all made sense, finally, in Kíli's head. She could not make dwarf braids because she wasn't good doing it. Against his best judgement, Kíli's chest started to shake, and soon a clear laughter escaped from his lips. Only Tauriel's angry look managed to quiet him after a few minutes, a smile still on his face.
'I do not see what is there to laugh about' she said coldly, her arms folded against her chest.
'Well, I do' said he, putting his hands on her shoulders. 'Because I had always thought there was nothing you could not do. But you can't braid like us brutish dwarves can?' His face was close to hers and he planted soft kisses on her, feeling Tauriel relax in his arms after a short while.
'Well, lucky you I can kill spiders better than a dwarf can. That is a real skill.' Her arms were wrapped against his back now, her eyes shut as Kíli's kisses covered her skin.
'I could teach you, you know' He whispered on her neck 'My hair is usually a mess, anyway.'
She grabbed two strands of his dark hair and pulled them around his neck, reminding Kíli for a moment that she could probably kill a pack of orcs with her bare hands.
'I think you can put your mouth to better uses than making fun of me' she said as she made a bow with his hair.
Kíli laughed one more time before leaning on her and putting both their mouths to the best use they had found yet.