Hello! This is the second of the prize one-shots written for the winners of a competition I held in Strangers Like Me, and this one is for , who requested a fic with Kíli and Tauriel together. I'm not entirely sure how this grew the way it did, but I hope you enjoy it :D
A few notes before we begin – there is a little Khuzdul and Elvish in this fic –
Mizimith = little jewel (dwarvish)
Âmralimê = Love of mine (dwarvish)
Adad = father (dwarvish)
Nana = mother (elvish)
Melamin = my love (elvish)
Also - there are several references scattered throughout this in typical Hobbsy style, so enjoy and bonus points if you catch em!
Read, enjoy (forgive any typos) and Review!
And – this is for you!
An Impossible Possibility
Dragging his sleeve across his forehead, Kíli quickened his pace. Long distance running was hell for most dwarves, and to this Erebor's youngest prince was no exception. However, he was training, and he had made a pact with himself to run until he collapsed.
Fourteen hours had passed since he began, and Kíli was still going.
Beside him ran on of the tributaries of the river that snaked right through the Lonely Mountain. He was racing it now, racing it to the outside, to the sunlight – or maybe it was starlight now. Kíli wasn't sure what time it was.
Vaulting over a nearby rock was a little more tricky than usual, but Kíli managed with barely a stumble. He could see outside now – the sky was painted a bloody orange, and the entrance to the tunnel was basked in faint light. He grinned. Sunset was one of his favourite times of day.
Kíli ran out into the light, breathing heavily as his body adjusted to the slight temperature change. It was warmer out here in the sun, even with the gathering dusk. Almost immediately he was forced to run downhill, and he grunted as he was forced to change his posture a little. His body ached all over, but he couldn't stop.
Kíli had something to prove.
And then the stones beneath his feet came loose. His cry was one of irritation more than anything else as Kíli came crashing down to the ground. His momentum dragged him a further ten feet down the mountain side and he gritted his teeth as the rough ground tore his skin open.
Finally, Kíli ground to a halt.
He sighed heavily and lay there for a moment, unable to will himself to move. There was still strength lingering in his muscles, there was still air in his lungs and he could have fought for longer, he could have run further, but no. He just fell like a dwarfling barely out of infancy.
"The story of my life," he lamented breathlessly, shifting into a more comfortable position. Now there was the sharp pain of the abrasions that covered the entire right side of his body to accompany the aching of his every limb.
As he controlled the slowing of his breathing, Kíli wondered exactly how long he had been gone. Maybe he should have been using the pocket-watch Bilbo had sent him last Yuletide. It was a beautiful thing, that watch, and Kíli was too afraid that he would break it dare taking it outside. A decade ago, Kíli would have 'accidentally' broken it so that he could see how it worked and if he could put it back together, but much had changed in ten years.
In the five years before the quest for Erebor, Kíli and his brother had been training and working almost non-stop in order to prove to Thorin that they were capable of partaking in whatever great secret their Uncle was planning. During the quest itself Kíli had changed more than he thought possible – especially during the Battle of the Five Armies.
Even now, five years later, the memory of the battle still caused Kíli's heart and throat to clench and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply the way that Bifur had taught him.
Breathe in… two, three, four, five, six, seven… Breathe out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… And again, breathe in…
Their kin were screaming, falling, dying and Kíli was trapped behind a wall of stone, terrified of joining the fray but equally afraid of losing all honour and allowing his kindred to shed their blood for him without his even trying to help.
Hold, two, three, four…
They were charging and Kíli was following Thorin and yelling a battle cry and his senses were electrified as they always were in battle, but this was different, this was nothing like anything he had ever experienced before and Kíli was scared, so scared…
Breathe out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…
It was all going wrong and he could hear Azog saying something above him, and Thorin, Dwalin and Bilbo (where had Bilbo come from?) looked terrified, terrified and Kíli could only think of one thing that would make them look like that and then Fíli was screaming –
"RUN!"
And then there was the soft sound of something falling and then Fíli crashed to the floor, blood soaking his midsection and dribbling from his mouth.
Kíli's eyes squeezed tighter shut and he tried to swallow. Breathe in, breathe in, come on breathe in!
Fury and sorrow and fear – fear stronger than anything he had ever known were tearing through Kíli's body and Fíli couldn't be, Fíli wasn't, Azog hadn't- No, no, no, NO! He charged, but a faint noise stopped him and he turned.
"Kee…" Fíli coughed again, an almost imperceptible sound.
His brother's eyelids were fluttering, and Kíli's need for revenge melted away. His brother was his first priority – his brother was always his first priority.
"Fíli!" he cried, falling to his brother's side and tearing at his clothing.
"Kíli!" Thorin yelled, but Kíli could not understand what his uncle wanted of him now. He couldn't leave Fíli, he couldn't.
Breathe in, two, three, four, five, six, seven….
The wound was visible and Kíli choked, staring at his brother's stricken face. "Fee… Fíli, don't…hold on, Fee, hold on…"
Fíli tried to talk, but blood bubbled out from his mouth instead and his fingers wrapped around Kíli's hand as the younger brother cried.
"Don't leave me," Kíli begged, pushing Fíli's hair out of his face. "Please, oh Mahal please don't leave me Fíli, you can't, you can't leave-"
"Kíli, look out!" Thorin roared, terror ratcheting through his voice, but it came too late and the orcs were upon him.
Hold, two, three, four…
He wasn't expecting it, so when the spear drove into his stomach Kíli could barely react. He could hear Fíli's strangled scream and Thorin's grief-stricken howl, but nothing was registering in his mind and he couldn't breathe, oh Mahal why couldn't he just breathe!
Breathe out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…
Kíli opened his eyes. When he had woken after the battle he had been lying on a crib in a healing tent between the unmoving bodies of his brother and uncle. He was told that his wound was miraculously shallow, and that it had somehow missed all of his internal organs. Kíli did not like to think of himself as a babe, but when he had been told that the crown of Erebor would most likely be resting upon his own head Kíli had become hysterical – to his disgruntlement there was no other word that appropriately described it.
Then something odd had happened.
An elf had walked into the tent.
Tauriel.
"Kíli, control yourself," Dwalin begged through tears of his own, trying to force the young dwarf back into bed.
"I can't, I can't!" Kíli screamed, the force of his sobs wreaking havoc on his seeping wounds. "Fíli, Fíli, no, no, no! Thorin! Somebody help them! Help them! Oh, Mahal, please, please, please…"
"Forgive my intrusion," a soft, feminine voice interrupted them, and Kíli saw her through a veil of tears. Her presence might have allowed a little more air into his lungs, but it did nothing to alleviate his pain.
"You helped me!" he croaked. "You helped me, you can help them. Please, please help them, please!"
Tauriel inclined her head slowly. "That is why I have come."
Few of the dwarves were keen on the idea of letting a group of elves perform medicine on their king and crown prince, but even in his current state Kíli knew that he could use his status as the highest ranking available royal to veto them all.
Kíli's most desperate prayers had been answered, and for that he thanked every one of the Valar every single day.
Of course, things were not the same anymore. Thorin's wounds had taken a while to heal, and it had taken some time for them to grow accustomed to life under the mountain. And Fíli…
It still hurt to think about it. Kíli's brave big brother, the strong prince shaping up to be the best warrior the Blue Mountains had ever seen, was paralysed. Funnily enough, Fíli had been less upset by that than Kíli had.
"I could be dead, little brother," he would remind Kíli gently.
Being Fíli, Erebor's crown prince was not going to let a little thing like paralysis get in his way. In a matter of weeks he had designed a wheeled chair that would enable him to get himself around with ease, and upon being given the plans Kíli had crafted every piece himself. Óin had had a fit when he found out that Kíli had been in the forges only a month after being injured, but Kíli didn't care. The chair was a labour of love from him to his brother, and it had even Fíli the independence he so quietly craved.
Among men, Fíli may have been seen as an embarrassment or the like due to his condition, but to the race of dwarves he was nothing short of a hero and a fierce survivor – the prince joked that it had probably elevated his social status more than the battle itself could have.
"I thought I'd find you out here."
"By the Valar!" Kíli jumped, jolting into a sitting position and turning so quickly he got whiplash. "Fíli, don't sneak up on me like that. Think of the devil…"
His brother grinned. "Daydreaming about my magnificence again, little brother?"
"Your big head more like," Kíli grumbled, climbing to his feet.
"Are you alright?" Fíli asked, genuine concern shimmering in his eyes.
"Aye, aye, I'm fine," Kíli brushed himself off. "I just went for a run."
"You've been gone fifteen hours or so, Kee." Fíli pointed out.
Kíli shrugged. "I'm practising for the big race."
"The race isn't for a month's time, and it certainly doesn't require running for more than a day." Fíli looked amused. "It only takes the fastest runners two hours, you know that."
"But I must build up my endurance." Kíli argued. "I want to win."
"It's just a game, Kíli. A friendly was to open discussions-"
"Between the dwarven kingdoms, I know." Waving off his brother's explanation, Kíli grinned. "But we're going to win."
"We?" Fíli raised an eyebrow.
Kíli just winked, walking around to grab the handles of Fíli's chair.
"Oh, no, no, no, you're not pushing me around that stupid race, no." Fíli protested, swatting Kíli's hand away and pushing the wheels back himself. Unfortunately, he was pushing uphill, so the minute he stopped he began to slide down again. "By my beard…"
"We need to work on its off-road skills…" Kíli mused, dragging his brother up towards the tunnel. As soon as they were on smoother ground Fíli would easily be able to take over himself. "Perhaps another wheel at the front to stabilise it, a little more suspension to reduce the bumping… And no, I have no intention of pushing you. I'm going to carry you."
"Carry me?" Fíli yelped. "Kíli, I'm not a babe!"
"I know," Kíli grinned. "But traditionally you should run the race – you're the heir to the throne – so you're going to run."
"Alright, say I agreed. What loophole have you found in the rules that allows two princes to run?"
"If you ride on my back and direct me, we will count as only one runner. So all you have to do is blindfold me and tell me where to go."
"I see…" Fíli mused. "Well, that could work."
Kíli grinned. "Then it's a plan! Why were you looking for me anyway?"
"The elves are back. Thought you'd like to know."
Kíli shrugged. "The delegation-"
"I'm not talking about the delegation." Fíli interrupted. "The prince, Legolas, and Tauriel. They reached the mountain mid-afternoon, with leave from Thranduil. Apparently they wished to know how we are doing."
Kíli blinked and tried not to overreact. He had not seen Tauriel since those few weeks just after the battle – almost five years now. She had been sent with her prince to the other side of the world on a mission of some sort, and to his knowledge she had not yet returned from Mirkwood. Despite himself, Kíli had missed her.
He had missed her a lot. Of course, he had had time to think over things. It shouldn't be able to work between them – they walked in different words and it was utterly unheard of. Any children they may ever have would be shamed and shunned, and their union would be frowned upon by all concerned.
He couldn't convince himself, however, that his feelings had been groundless. There was something about her, something she had revealed in their conversation in the jail of Mirkwood, something that Kíli could not name. Something that enticed him. Then she had saved him, time and time again. But Kíli could not be with her.
"I don't want to see them."
Fíli stopped in his tracks. "I beg your pardon."
"You heard me. I don't want to see them."
"The prince asked after your health especially-"
"And I'm sure you were able to tell him I'm as right as rain."
"Kíli," Fíli rolled forward and grabbed his brother's arm. "She will be hurt if you refuse to see her."
Kíli could not bring himself to meet his brother's eyes. He had not had to confess his feelings to Fíli. Fíli had always known. "But it will hurt less in the long run. We cannot have a future, Fíli, and a love without a future will only bring pain for the both of us."
Fíli was quiet for a long moment. "You've grown up a lot, Kíli."
"Thank you…" Kíli mumbled, restarting their walk.
"Too much."
It was Kíli's turn to pause. "Excuse me?"
"You've grown up too much. We are not yet ninety years old, Kíli. You have barely hit eighty. You're allowed to be impulsive, to be daring. Yes, we have much responsibility, but you should at least talk to her."
"Do you think so?" Kíli looked shyly at his brother.
"Of course," Fíli slapped his arm. "Go. Now. But stop off at the bath's first – you look and smell terrible."
Kíli could not help himself from grinning. "Alright, I will!"
It was only when he tried to run that his muscles made themselves known, and Kíli tumbled down to the floor with a yelp and a tangle of limbs.
Fíli laughed. "Would you like a ride, Kíli?"
"Yes please," the younger wheezed, jumping onto the specially made stand at the back of the chair.
With a grin, Fíli began to push them through the halls of Erebor at a speed that would definitely not impress their mother. They had to slow down a little in the inhabited areas, lest they ran over an unsuspecting dwarf, but most now new that Erebor's princes were to be avoided when they were travelling fast than most could hope to run.
Unfortunately, luck seemed to be laughing at Kíli today.
There was a loud screech as Fíli wrenched on the brake lever of his chair just in time to stop the pair of them from crashing into Balin – and two very surprised elves.
"Good evening, Prince Legolas, Tauriel," Fíli said smoothly, as if his entrance had been nothing but regal. "I found my brother for you."
His cheeks burning, Kíli tried to smile, looking at Legolas to avoid the gaze of Tauriel's beautiful eyes. "Good evening."
"Good heavens, lad, what've you done to your face?" Balin did little to help Kíli's embarrassment.
Trying to shrug it off, Kíli grinned sheepishly. "Fell down the side of the mountain."
"You look like you've been dragged behind a horse for a mile and a half."
"Thank you, Balin." Kíli sighed as Fíli snickered.
"I trust you are not hurt too badly."
And there it was. That voice that had called him out of the strange, murky darkness that his infested wound had produced. As beautiful as ever.
"Nah," Kíli smiled, finally looking up at Tauriel. His heart twisted in his chest, though his face did not change a jolt. She was even more mesmerising than he remembered. He swallowed and looked away. No point of torturing himself more than was necessary. "If you'll excuse me I'm on my way to the baths."
With that, he hopped off of the chair and took off down the hall before anyone could stop him.
"And that, children, is how I met your mother. Again." Kíli finished with a flourish.
"And you just ran away?" Hel raised her dainty eyebrows at her father.
Kíli shrugged and ruffled the little elfling's hair. "Well, I was covered in blood and dirt. Despite everything I wanted to impress her."
"But did you win?" Frerin wanted to know.
"Win what?"
"The race, Adad," Frerin rolled his eyes. "With Uncle Fíli."
"Oh, the race! Of course we won. Do you doubt your bloodline, boy?"
Frerin giggled. "It's not technically my bloodline, Adad."
"What do you mean?" Kíli frowned heavily.
"I'm adopted, Adad," Frerin pointed out.
Kíli gasped and put a hand to his mouth. "What?! Oh, Mahal, who told you?"
Frerin, Loki and Hel laughed.
With a little yawn, the toddler Kíli was carrying on his front tugged on his father's braid. "Adad, I miss Nana."
"You'll see her soon, mizimith." Kíli assured him. "They're meeting us at Bag End, remember?"
"No, I don't," Taurion pouted. The little dwarfling was barely four years old – barely out of infancy, and the long journey from the Lonely Mountain to the Shire was tiring even for Kíli himself, so the 126 year old prince did not mind his son's little tantrum.
"Adad, you're sure that we're gonna make it in time for tea?" Frerin worried. "It's nearly four."
Before Kíli could say anything, Loki snorted. "Since when're you worried about being late?"
"Uncle Bilbo was always on time last time he visited us," Frerin protested. "And he kept on talking about Adad's watch."
"But we've come from Erebor!" Loki protested. "He won't mind if we're a little late. Besides, Uncle Bilbo loves us."
"Well," Hel drawled. "He loves me. You two just get on his nerves!"
"Not me!" Frerin shook his head with a grin. "I wasn't even Tauri's age last time we saw him, so he thought I was 'adorable'. You're just a noisy nuisance."
Loki scowled, shoving his brother. "Am not!"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Kíli called out, swinging Taurion onto his hips and glaring at the squabbling brothers. "Stop that, now. I know you're tired. I'm tired too. But we're very close to Hobbiton now, and we all want to look nice and tidy for Uncle Bilbo."
"Well, Nana wants us to look nice and tidy for Uncle Bilbo." Hel pointed out.
"True," Kíli admitted. Tauriel was much more concerned with appearances than Kíli was. "Which is even more reason for you all to behave. If you don't, I get in trouble."
Frerin giggled slightly. "I like it when you get in trouble, Adad."
"You do the sad puppy face!" Loki agreed gleefully.
Kíli gasped in mock-offense. "Me? Sad puppy face? Never!"
The children all laughed, and inside Kíli beamed. The sound of their laughter always made him smile.
"Look, Loki, look!" Frerin tugged on his big brothers sleeve and then pulled his best 'puppy dog eyes'.
Loki laughed. "Perfect!"
Frerin grinned happily.
"Adad," Taurion frowned. "I don' fink I know Uncle Bilbo?"
"You haven't met him yet, but he's heard all about you." Kíli explained. "We haven't seen him for almost a decade."
The toddler's frown deepened. "What if he doesn't like me?"
"Don't worry, Tauri," Loki smiled warmly. "He'll love you. And you'll love him."
"Uncle Bilbo's amazing!" Hel agreed. "He's the best hobbit in the whole wide world."
"He was the burglar in the Quest for Erebor!" Frerin piped up. "Right, Adad?"
"As per usual." Kíli winked.
"Ai!" Hel sprang excitedly into the air, pointing forward. "We're here! We're here, we're here, we're here!"
Sure enough, Hobbiton was sprawled out before them, and right there, standing beside her white horse with little Vanya strapped to her back, was Tauriel.
Kíli grinned as the children around him squealed in delight and charged at their mother and youngest sister. For a moment, he didn't move other than to lower the flailing Taurion to the ground so that he could run his funny little wobbling run towards his mother.
Five decades of memories washed over him, and though they had only been parted for four days it felt as though it had been a lifetime since he had seen his wife.
Wife. Kíli loved that word. It had caused more than a little strife in the Lonely Mountain, though.
"You want to what?" Thorin raised his eyebrows.
Kíli took a deep breath. "I want to propose to Tauriel."
Thorin exhaled and rubbed his forehead. "You want to propose to an elf."
"Yes, I do." Kíli said quietly. After almost a minute of silence, he broke. "I understand completely if you cannot give your blessing, Thorin. I love her more than life itself, but I know that it is unheard and I understand that you must think me selfish and foolish and-"
"Kíli," Thorin interrupted softly. "If it were a matter of my approval alone I would have granted it the moment you asked. Your happiness is important to me, Kíli. And despite her race, I do like Tauriel. But you are right, it is unheard of. Your courtship may be private, but your friendship has already fallen under scrutiny and folk are already unsure what to think. I truly do not know what they would think if you officially proposed."
"I know…" Kíli hung his head, trying not to allow his gut to be completely crushed.
Thorin put his fingers beneath Kíli's chin and lifted his face up. "Kíli… I was discuss this with Balin and with your mother, and we will see what we can do."
"Really?" Kíli was completely taken-aback. "I… Thorin…"
"I will see what I can do," Thorin promised. "But you must know that the answer you want may not be within my power to give you."
"I know!" nodding eagerly, Kíli grasped Thorin's hand. "Thank you, Uncle. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Kíli." Thorin smiled warmly. "Now, get away with you – I have work to do."
"Thank you, Thorin," Kíli beamed, turning to leave Thorin's chambers only to stop at the door. "Thank you."
Thorin simply smiled and waved him away.
"Hello," Tauriel smiled, opening her arms for the onslaught of children.
Her voice tore Kíli from his memory and he smiled, racing forward himself. The prince overtook the children with ease, but Tauriel was well used to him by now so she sidestepped easily. Not one to be evaded so easily, Kíli barrelled into her, seizing her around the waist and lifting her into the air.
"Hello, melamin." She smiled, staring at him with a love he still could not believe belonged to him. "If you do not put me down I will show your sons why they should never mistreat a woman."
"Well, that's a little harsh, âmralimê," Kíli raised his eyebrows as he gazed up at her. "I've missed you."
"I missed you too," she murmured, kissing the top of his head.
He slowly lowered her down to the floor just in time to allow her to be bombarded by Loki and Frerin. Kíli's heart swelled with pride when he noticed that Hel was trailing behind so that she could take Taurion's hand and run with him.
"Hello!" Tauriel beamed, embracing each of the children in turn. "Have you all been good for you Adad?"
"Yes, Nana!" Taurion promised. "Even Loki!"
"Hey!" Loki tipped his chin up. "I'm always well behaved."
"I shall believe that when I see it." Tauriel shook her head.
A happy little gurgle let them all know that Vanya thought she wasn't getting enough attention, and Kíli happily pulled his infant daughter out of the sling on her mother's back.
"Hello, beautiful!" he cooed. "Are you feeling better? Is that nasty cold all gone?"
With another joyful noise, Vanya reached out and bopped Kíli's face, grabbing at his nose with her chubby, uncoordinated hands. "Ad-ad-ad-ad-ad!"
"That's right, Adad!" Kíli looked at Tauriel eagerly. "She said Adad, did you here that?"
She raised her eyebrows. "I heard Ad-ad-ad-ad."
Kíli narrowed his eyes but before he could reply Vanya tapped him on the nose again. "Adad! Adad!"
"That's right!" Kíli yelled gleefully, smothering the baby's face with kisses before smirking at Tauriel. "What does that make the score?"
"Three – two to you." She admitted.
"What do you mean?" Taurion frowned.
Hel was the one to explain as she clung to her mother's arm. "It's a first word contest. You and Frerin said Nana first, and me, Loki and now Vanya all said Adad first."
"Can we please go and see Uncle Bilbo now?" Frerin was jumping up and down on the spot. "Please?"
Kíli extended his arm. "Lead the way, Frerin!"
The child hesitated, tugging on one of the beads in his hair.
"I'll show you the way, Frer," Loki looped his arm through his brother's. "C'mon!"
The two boys charged forward, closely followed by Hel. Within moments, she had taken over and was racing before them with a call of - "See ya, wouldn't want to be ya!"
"Wait for me!" Taurion called, toddling after them as fast as those little legs would carry him.
"So Lord Elrond gave her his blessing?" Kíli tickled Vanya's nose.
"That he did," Tauriel wove her arm around Kíli's waist and leant into him. "We were right in thinking that it was just a short illness, but those extra few days in Rivendell did do her good. She recovered quicker than even I thought."
"Good," Kíli smiled, tickling his baby's nose. "I was worried…"
It had pained him to leave Tauriel and Vanya behind in Rivendell, but the youngest member of the family had fallen ill and his wife had suggested waiting for a few days until she recovered. Unwilling to have all of them risk missing Bilbo's 100th birthday party, Tauriel had insisted that Kíli take the others ahead.
It had been difficult for her, as well. She trusted Kíli irrevocably with their children's safety, but she missed him and the little ones. She had missed them much more than she should have done over such a few short days.
"There were some in Rivendell who had been travelling the Far East for almost a century and they were very surprised to see me walking around with a baby dwarfling in my arms." She laughed.
Kíli looked at her with a cheeky grin that still sent her heart fluttering. "Did you swear at them in Khuzdul?"
"I didn't think Thorin would approve," she replied dryly. "Shall we go and rescue Master Baggins?"
"Ah, he can deal with the little monsters," Kíli set off at an amiable pace, bobbing Vanya up and down on his hip.
Rolling her eyes at his flippancy, Tauriel took the horses reigns. "Kíli, he's ninety-nine years old. That is old, for a halfling."
"That's still something I find his hard to adjust to, the ways that different races age so differently." Kíli admitted. "It's going to be strange when the children start overtaking each other."
Tauriel pursed her lips. It had been weighing on her mind since they had brought Hel home almost twenty four years ago. Their family was the strangest she had ever heard of – a blend of two races no one believed could, or even should, blend, and she worried that it would weigh heavily on the children as they grew.
"Hey, hey!" Kíli took her hand. "Don't worry about it now. Worry later. Walk now."
She could not help but smile. "I can both walk and worry at the same time, you know."
"Tough," Kíli grinned wickedly. "Because we won't be walking."
With barely any warning, Kíli darted forward into a sprint and Tauriel rolled her eyes. Despite her constant protests that she was the mature member of the family, Tauriel could not help herself when he goaded her like that and she took off after him.
Frodo Baggins sat at his uncle's table cutting strips of fabric into triangles to make bunting for the upcoming party. It had been one year since Bilbo had picked him up from Brandy Hall and taken him in, and Frodo was loving it so far.
At twenty-one, Frodo was only just entering his tween years and adolescence, but he knew that he was smart for his age, and he knew that Uncle Bilbo should look older than he did. That wasn't a problem for Frodo, of course – he had no intention of losing another parent figure – but it did make him curious. Another thing that made him curious was that Bilbo was waiting for something, and it wasn't just the birthday party that he was planning for the two of them. His uncle kept peering out of the window and spending hours in the markets stocking up the parlour for more than just the two of them.
Frodo was very curious.
"How're you coming along with that fabric, my boy?" Bilbo put his hand on Frodo's shoulder. "My, that's looking wonderful."
"Thank you," Frodo's feet waved under his table as he grinned.
All of a sudden there was a loud thud, followed by two more thuds reverberating around the house. Frodo jumped, looking to his uncle, but before even of them could speak the bell started clanging non-stop. A burst of hammering joined it and Frodo gripped the table
"Uncle Bilbo, what's going on?"
To his surprise, Bilbo was beaming. "I think that we're about to have visitors."
A louder, stronger knock burst over the small ones. "Master Boggins, are we late for dinner?"
Bilbo winked at Frodo and beckoned for him to follow. The older hobbit pulled the door open and Frodo's mouth fell open as four children tumbled into his hallway, closely followed by a dwarf and an elf. As he blinked, Frodo realised that that two of the children were dwarflings, and that the other two were elves! There were three elves, three in his house!
"Uncle Bilbo!" the taller of the dwarflings cheered, barrelling into Bilbo and hugging him tightly.
"Hello, Loki! My, you've grown strong! And Hel – look at you! You get more beautiful every time I see you." Bilbo reached out to hug the little elf girl, who smiled a smile so adorable that it was hard to believe it was real. "And Frerin – you aren't a toddler at all any more are you?"
"Nope!" the smaller elfling grinned, wiggling past the dwarfling boy – Loki – to wrap his arms around Bilbo's waist.
"Bilbo," the adult dwarf batted the children out of the way to squeeze one of his arms around the hobbit and lift Frodo's uncle clean off of the floor. "I've missed you!"
"And I've missed you too, Kíli. Please put me down."
"I'm awfully sorry, Mister Baggins," the elf shook her head, taking the hand of the only dwarfling yet to be named. "He seems to be in a mood for lifting people today."
"I can see," Bilbo stared down at Kíli's arms. "My goodness, is this little Vanya?"
"Yep!" Kíli said proudly, putting Bilbo down and passing a baby into his arms.
"Hello!" Bilbo smiled, bouncing her up and down on his hip. "Aren't you beautiful?"
"Isn't she though?" Kíli beamed.
Bilbo looked to the little dwarfling holding so tightly to the elf's hand. "Which means that you must be Taurion?"
The child nodded shyly.
"It's very nice to meet you," Bilbo said. "Come in, come in, you must all be tired and hungry. It's a long way from Erebor, after all."
Erebor? Frodo thought. They're from Erebor?
"Everyone, I'd like to introduce my nephew and heir, Frodo Baggins," Bilbo announced, snapping Frodo out of his awed daydream.
Frodo smiled and waved. "Hello."
"Hello, Frodo," Kíli said with his apparently perpetual grin. "We've heard a lot about you in Bilbo's letters. It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too," the young hobbit looked to his uncle.
"Ah yes, of course. This here is Prince Kíli of Erebor, third in line to the throne of the Lonely Mountain if you want to be all specific, his wife Tauriel," the elf smiled with a nod of her head. "And his children: Loki, Hel, Frerin, Taurion and Vanya. Frodo, my dear, close your mouth before you catch a fly in it."
Frodo snapped his jaw shut. "Sorry, Uncle Bilbo."
"Not at all lad, run and set the table would you?"
Nodding, Frodo ran out of the room. Merely minutes later they were sat around the dining table with a spectacular picnic lunch spread out before them. After a little while of happy chatter, Frodo gathered his courage.
"Excuse me Master Kíli, I don't mean to be rude and I hope you don't mind me asking, but I didn't think that elves and dwarves were really…allowed to get married…"
"They weren't really, as a general rule," Kíli shrugged flippantly. "We happen to be an exception. Elves and dwarves don't usually fall in love, but unfortunately for Tauriel she was smitten by my good looks from the moment she first saw me."
The elf laughed. "You mean you were smitten from the first moment I saved you from becoming spider-food in Mirkwood."
Kíli shook his head. "Nope. You fell for me first. Definitely. Anyway, after many, many years of political stress and tiptoeing around laws and social expectations Thorin managed to draw up a treaty of marriage that showed it to be a legal and respected union on the proviso that Tauriel never bore a child of half-blood. That was the best our racist councils would allow."
"So they adopted us instead," Loki said eagerly. "And all of us dwarves have elvish names – I'm Locien, which means dragon, Taurion has the boy version of Nana's name and Vanya means strong and beautiful. Hel and Frerin have dwarven names, even though they're elves."
"That's amazing!" Frodo's eyes widened.
"I'm glad you think so," Tauriel smiled wearily. "The reaction is not universal."
"But we survive!" Loki said cheerfully. "Even though Hel and Frerin will be much taller than me one day."
"You bet it," Hel smirked. "Smarter than you, too."
Loki snorted. "I highly doubt that."
"Obviously," Frerin poked his brother's arm. "We're already smarter than you."
"Ha! You wish!"
Tauriel watched her children squabble with a smile that hid the turmoil she felt every day. Though most in the mountain were at least tolerable of Hel and Frerin, and even Tauriel herself to a lesser extent, many visiting dwarves were appalled and even disgusted at the sight of elves among their king's family. Tauriel loved her children with all her heart, and she did not wish to see them scorned for her race.
She may have enjoyed an impossible romance with Kíli, but now she wondered if he knew that they had an impossible life to build.
As she stared at the strange, laughing dwarf that had somehow taken a home in her heart, Tauriel allowed herself to smile, breathe and relax.
After all, if she was going to take on the impossible there was no soul in the world that she would rather have at her side.
I hope you enjoyed this one-shot! I'm sorry, but my romance skills are sorely lacking :( I'm so sorry if it seemed forced or anything.
Also, I'm sorry that Tauriel did not have more to do in this fic, which probably kind of defeats the purpose of it. I don't know, she just didn't appear as much as I thought she would :( She does get the last word though ;)
Personally I'm not entirely sure where I stand with Kiliel – I just don't really see how it could logistically work, but oh well, let's pretend for this little story shall we? It did end up a little happier than most of my fics do :D
Anyway, thanks for reading, please leave a review if you would like to, I'd love to hear your feedback.
