why do you fellows
pull this stunt i asked him
have you no sense
plenty of it he answered
but at times we get tired
of using it
we get bored with the routine
and crave beauty
and excitement
fire is beautiful
and we know that if we get
too close it will kill us
but what does that matter
it is better to be happy
for a moment
and be burned up with beauty
than to live a long time
and be bored all the while

- "The Lesson of the Moth", Don Marquis

The battle was over.

The forces of orcs had been beaten back, and eagles kept vigil from the skies. Erebor was reclaimed. Lake Town was gone. Dale was filled with the fallen and those few who had survived, desperate to start anew.

Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, was dead.

His nephews still lived, even if the life of one was still hanging in the balance. The heir to the throne was under constant care of healers from both Mirkwood and the Iron Hills, with his younger brother always at his side.

Tauriel too had survived, although what that meant for her, she was not altogether sure. She did not rejoin the forces of Mirkwood, the memory of her last encounter with her king fresh in her mind. There would be no welcome for her there, she was certain. The thought did not hold bitterness as much as a solemn finality — she had made her choice, and it would not serve to look back now. So she stayed near the dwarves, though there was certainly little welcome for her to be found there either. There was, however, still need, and that was enough to keep her close by as the dust settled.

Kíli had need. She had not thought past getting to him on Ravenhill, and then it was the two of them against the same hulking orc that had wounded Kíli so grievously only days prior. It had been close, but the two of them, driven by the desperate fear of having to watch the other fall, had managed to overcome. They had immediately clung to one another, laughing with elation and the high of barely-won victory.

"You kept the promise," Kíli had gasped, his hair in a wild disarray and blood from a shallow cut dripping into his eye.

Tauriel lifted a hand to wipe it away. "I'm not sure I am obligated to keep a promise made without my knowledge."

He beamed up at her, smile bright through all the battle grime. "Ah, but you kept it all the same."

They had gazed at each other, caught in the knowledge that they were alive - they were both alive, and together, and what that could mean. Then an eagle had passed overhead, breaking the spell that had surrounded them. Kíli looked towards the battlefield, and Tauriel had followed as he rushed back, desperately searching for his uncle. They found him lying still and surrounded by other dwarves - some silent, others weeping openly. Kíli had let out a hoarse cry of denial before lurching towards them, and Tauriel hung back, not wishing to encroach on their circle. She had no place there.

Movement to the side caught her eye, and she looked to see the grey wizard beckoning her over with one hand. Beside him sat the little hobbit, who did not look up at her approach, his eyes fixed on the dwarves in their grief. There was curiosity in Mithrandir's gaze, but either his own weariness or the solemnity of the scene kept him from voicing it. He motioned for her to sit, though she did not particularly want to, as her nerves were still thrumming under her skin. A few odd looks in her direction prompted her to accept, as she had even less desire to draw attention to herself.

When the heartbroken group finally began to move down the mountain, she rose with the wizard and his companion to follow. The murmurs on the wind allowed her to glean that young Fíli was still alive, though in dire condition, and she watched as Kíli went straight to the healing tent that was indicated. Tauriel began to look around for a place to go, not expecting him to emerge for some time, but was surprised when the tent flap flew open and Kíli made his way directly over to her. She frowned down at him, concerned, taking in his red eyes and the fresh blood on his clothes. Not his.

He reached for her hands, squeezing them tightly. "Don't leave."

She hesitated. There were so many questions to consider - would she even be allowed to stay here? What if she was confronted? What could she possibly do to help? Yet, this was not the time for any of them, and she knew it. She met his pleading gaze and nodded once.

The tension in his face eased a bit, and he returned her nod before moving to go back to his brother's side.

Tauriel stood there staring at the tent and feeling completely at a loss before a touch on her arm had her looking down. It was the older dwarf she'd met in that house on the lake, the one who had been so pleased by her treatment of Kíli.

He offered her a strained smile, and inclined his head towards where other wounded were being seen to. "Come, lass. There are some who could use your assistance."

Tauriel stayed.

In the aftermath of battle, there was much work to be done. She helped where she was needed, with those that allowed it, and did her best to avoid those who were more outwardly uncomfortable with her presence. She had needed to awkwardly turn down Oín's requests to demonstrate more of her "elvish healing magic", explaining that what he had seen had been about the extent of her ability. She was a soldier, not a medic, and only knew what she needed to in order to keep a patient alive long enough to reach someone more skilled - and deep, ragged battlefield wounds were very different from poison.

The skeptical looks he gave her from time to time indicated that he thought she was holding something back, but she had nothing to hide. All that she had was gone - this new Tauriel was starting afresh, with only hope and stubbornness driving her. Still, she did everything in her power to save those she could, and that seemed to satisfy Oín well enough.

Days passed, and she only saw Kíli for brief moments when he emerged from the healing tent for food or other supplies and their paths happened to cross. He always looked weary and pale, eyes red and his hair snarled and unkempt. When his gaze fell on her, however, some of the strain melted from his face. He stood a little taller, as though just the mere reminder of her presence was enough to lighten the burden on his shoulders.

They never lingered together long, aware of the many eyes surrounding them, but he made sure to ask if she was well, and always waited for her responding nod before slipping back into the tent. The answer may not have been entirely true, but Tauriel would not have wanted to add to his troubles just then for anything, and she was managing well enough on her own.

When she did encounter difficulty acquiring meals among the wary dwarvish soldiers, she would always be found shortly afterwards by Bofur, Oín, or even the little hobbit, who had introduced himself to her as Bilbo. They were always bearing a bowl of warm food, which she accepted gratefully. There was little conversation to be had between them, affected as they all were by the gloom that hung over the rough camp, but she appreciated their efforts all the more so for it.

Tauriel took her rest when she needed it, but since she required little sleep, she often ended up wandering. Much of her time during the night was spent up on a ridge slightly elevated from the rest, where she could listen to the quiet and look up at the sky.

That's where she was on the fourth night, when the wait finally ended.

She had been looking at the stars, letting her mind drift, when the crunch of boots on gravel startled her. On instinct she whirled around and started to rise to her feet, but was stopped by a short, stout body colliding with hers. Kíli wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, the difference in their heights negated by her being on her knees.

Shocked, Tauriel's arms hovered in the air awkwardly for a moment before she returned the embrace, her heart sinking at the feel of his heaving breaths. Had the worst come to pass?

"Kíli," she murmured into his hair. "Kíli, what is it, what has happened—"

He pulled back from her abruptly, and she just saw the flash of a bright smile before his mouth was pressed to hers. She froze in surprise, and he didn't push further, pulling away after a brief moment and resting their foreheads together.

Feeling extremely out of her depth, she blinked at him in bewilderment and took in his appearance — still smiling, in a way she hadn't seen since they had first spoken of stars and fire moons, and… no tears, she realized with sudden relief. Simply out of breath. Had he run all this way to find her? "I… take it there's good news."

Somehow his face brightened further. "The best. He's awake."

"And you couldn't have said that first?" Though her words were admonishing, she didn't try and keep the gladness from her voice.

His smile turned a bit sheepish. "Sorry. I was just — so happy, and then I saw you, and… got carried away. I won't do it again. Well, that is, not if you don't wish me to."

She shook her head, finally returning his smile and raising an eyebrow. "I only hope you didn't inform everyone else the same way."

His bark of laughter was startling in the quiet that surrounded them. "Nah, just you."

When she lowered herself back to the ground Kíli automatically moved to join her, seemingly unwilling to break contact. He sat facing her, their legs pressed together, and slid a hand down her arm to take hers, meshing their fingers. "I can't believe you're still here."

Tauriel tilted her chin up, giving him a faintly amused look. "You asked me to stay."

He squeezed her hand. "I mean, that you're here at all — that you came to find me. That you keep finding me."

"Saving you."

That earned her a soft chuckle. "That too."

For a moment both seemed to content to simply sit, enjoying the novelty of having a instant of peace together. Tauriel raised her free hand to bring it to his hair, smoothing it away from his face and gently undoing the tangles where her fingers snagged. Kíli leaned into the touch, looking at her with the same open wonder that he had from his prison cell.

When her hand rose again, he turned his head to kiss her wrist. "Would you come with me, if I asked you once more?"

Caught off guard, she withdrew her hand, drawing from him a hushed noise of protest. He tightened his grip on her fingers, as though worried she'd pull away entirely. Instead, she looked away from him for the first time since he'd arrived, and turned towards the mountain. It loomed over them, a deep black against the stars, only broken by the few lanterns at the entrance to the kingdom where even now dwarves worked to make it ready while their new king recovered.

It seemed Kíli could read her mind, as he began speaking in earnest. "I asked Fíli, and he said you were welcome. And seeing as he's king, now—" and here there was a slight hitch of breath, which he just managed to power through, "or at least soon will be, then it's really just his word that matters."

She turned back sharply, and at the look on her face he hastened to amend his statement. "And yours, of course."

While she had known this was coming, had been aware of it from the moment she'd chosen to remain with the dwarves instead of seeking out her own kin, facing it so clearly — having to give an answer felt overwhelming. Tauriel grasped for a distraction. "Your brother has only just awakened, and you've already bothered him about me?"

Kíli's slightly raised brow indicated that he knew full well she was stalling, but he indulged her nonetheless. "He hasn't just awakened. I gave him a good hour before bringing it up."

"How generous. And that didn't worsen his condition?"

He snorted. "To be honest, I don't think he was that surprised. Especially after I told him what you did in the battle, saving my life again and all. We owe you a debt, Tauriel. He's not going to forget."

"It will not be easy. Not for either of us, or any who choose to help us."

"I don't care. I told you, I am not afraid. I need you near. And I promise, amrâlimê — I will do everything in my power to make you happy."

The prospect of staying in the mountain, surrounded by cold stone and dwarves who resented her presence was not a particularly appealing one. Yet she was still there, all the same. No matter the difficulty, she could not deny that she had no more desire to be parted than he did. She could not ask him to forsake his family and kingdom for her, especially after all he had lost. He was needed here. And even if she did refuse and asked him to come with her… she had no home, not anymore.

No home, no family, no purpose. Even Legolas, who had been as a brother to her, had not shown himself since the fighting ceased. No, she was the only one in a position to make this choice… and as she sat there, seeing the hope in Kíli's eyes, she felt a sense of surety settle over her.

All of this anxiety was for naught. Her choice had been made days ago, in the ruined streets of an abandoned city.

"Tauriel?" Kíli's whisper broke into her thoughts, and she glanced down to see worry creeping over his features. Well, that wouldn't do.

Instead of replying, she leaned down to pull him into a kiss, taking from him what he had from her. Or at least, that had been the idea, but Kíli gave as much as he received, opening his mouth to her and practically thrumming with delight when she accepted the invitation. When they parted, breathing heavily, his smile was radiant.

"So? What is your answer?"

Tauriel smiled, basking in the warmth of his joy, and drew them together once more. "I think you know."

"Fíli has put a chamber aside for you, you know." Kíli stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking torn between delight at having her in his room and the knowledge that by the customs of both races, her presence there was highly improper.

In light of everything that they'd been through, Tauriel couldn't bring herself to care about propriety. At least, not where no one else could see them. "Do you not want me here?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Never said that! Would never say that. I just… wanted to be sure you knew of your options."

Tauriel did know about 'her' chamber. She'd seen it. Once it was cleaned up, it would be nice enough, for a hole in the stone. Perhaps that thought was uncharitable — even in ruin, Erebor was magnificent — but she had not come here to be alone in the dark, away from her trees and her stars. She had come here for a young, reckless prince with sparkling eyes and a smile that warmed her to the marrow, and she did not intend to be away from him longer than she had to.

"Then I'll stay." She cast a look over her shoulder, trying to read his reaction.

Kíli's eyes were eager, but he was clearly trying to hold himself back. "Tauriel… are you sure?"

"Right now, this is the only thing I am sure about," she said, turning to face him. "You are all I have. If you'll allow it, then this is where I wish to be."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You don't have to stay here — if you wished to go home for a time, I would understand—"

"I do not have a home, Kíli," she cut him off abruptly. Not wanting to burden him further in the immediate aftermath of so much loss, she had kept the truth of her situation to herself. Still, he did need to know, deserved to know… as did his brother, as king. "I am banished."

Kíli's mouth worked silently, his face the picture of shock. When he finally found his voice again, it was thick with disbelief. "Banished? How? Why? But you were Captain — what could have possessed your king to cast you out?"

Tauriel stopped herself from telling him it wasn't important, from avoiding the details of her fall from grace. Much as she did not want to look back on it… he needed her honesty, especially if she was going to be asking so much of him.

"I disobeyed him… multiple times." She looked down at her hands, willing away the desire to fidget. "At the last, I drew my bow on him. That is not something any would find easy to forgive — particularly not a king."

Boots echoed on the stone as he moved to stand in front of her, looking up into her face. His eyes searched hers, clearly not satisfied with her answer. "But why, Tauriel? Why would you go so far?"

The bitter resentment and frustration rose in her throat, as everything that had gone through her in the days leading up to that calamitous battle welled afresh. "Because I had had enough of hiding away instead of aiding those I could. Of only looking to our own, instead of those around us. Of pretending that my life was worth more than those outside our woods, simply because they are mortal. Of acting as though if we simply looked away, evil would pass us by. Because I was angry… and because I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Kíli reached forward to gently work her fingers open from where she had clenched her fists at her side, having lost her internal battle.

"I did not want you to die." Tauriel was not a stranger to the thought of death. She was a warrior, and while she was a fine one, even elves could fall. This fear had been different… she had not wanted to lose the spark that had woken her from sleep, that had reminded her of all that she believed and the strength with which she could feel. She had been afraid, yes — afraid that all she'd have gotten to touch was that small, warm light, before it was snuffed out forever, leaving her to always wonder.

Tauriel said none of this, but from the look on Kíli's face, she hadn't needed to. How, how did he read her so easily?

Kíli reached up to frame her face with his large hands, cradling her jaw with deceptive tenderness. "Ah, amrâlimê. You really are extraordinary."

Her cheeks warmed and she would have ducked her head away, had he not been holding her in place.

"Why did you not tell me this before?" he whispered, tucking her hair behind one pointed ear.

"I did not want you to think I was only coming with you because I had no other choice."

It was true that the loss of her home stung, but she also knew that even had she not been banished, there could be no going back for her. Not after everything she'd seen, everything she knew. Going back to the guard, having to obey someone else's orders, even when they went against everything she felt to be right — she could no longer stand such a thing. No, she would not have returned to the Mirkwood.

Had she not accepted Kíli's offer to come to Erebor, she would have found another path to follow. But she did, and so here she was… of her own choice.

Kíli moved his hands to her waist, drawing her in closer, his smile taking on a hint of a leer. "Well, since you're so sure…"

She didn't resist his embrace, but moved her head slightly to dodge a kiss, shooting him an arch look. "Just because I wish to remain here does not mean I am promising anything… else."

The expression on his face dropped into a disappointed pout, although there was still bright amusement in his eyes. "Ah, you got my hopes up on purpose."

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, she shook her head. "No. I simply do not want to be alone… not in this place. If that is asking too much of you—"

The pout dropped from his face in an instant and he brought her hands to his lips, peering up at her earnestly. "No, no. I was only teasing. I am happy to have you with me in any manner you wish. I know this sort of thing is strange for elves."

"And what is it you know about elves and 'this sort of thing'?" she asked pointedly.

Caught, his smile turned sheepish. "All right, nothing really — but you hear stories. And until I met you, I hadn't seen anything to prove different."

"And you've met many elves before me?"

"Not many," Kíli admitted. "But we did stop at Rivendell for a time. The elves there were pretty enough, but distant. More like statues or paintings than real people. Not like you."

Tauriel was unsure whether or not she should be offended at such descriptions of her kin. "Perhaps you simply did not speak with them as you did with me."

He shook his head. "No, you were different from the first. Fierce, striking, alive. I could not help but be drawn to you."

As ever, his sincere and obvious adoration seemed to unsettle the ground beneath her feet, and she averted her gaze, trying to maintain her composure.

"I don't know why this surprises you so, although I do enjoy seeing you blush so prettily." He reached up to trace her cheek, laughing warmly.

Mustering herself, she attempted a glare. "Now who is doing such things on purpose?"

"Guilty," he admitted readily, flashing her a wink. Then he stretched up to bring their faces together, moving slowly enough to give her the chance to escape if she wished. When she didn't pull away, he sealed his mouth over hers, humming a low happy sound into the kiss.

They enjoyed the closeness for several long moments, breaking apart only to meet again, before Kíli lowered himself back down, bouncing a bit on his heels. "Now, if this room is going to be suitable for an elf, I have some work to do!"

Weeks passed, and life in the mountain had thus far proved to be… somewhat complicated. Sometimes in ways she had predicted, but much of the time in ways she had not. At all.

For instance, Tauriel had found an unexpected friend in the little hobbit, Bilbo. He had delayed his journey home in order to see Thorin put to rest and Fíli recover enough to be crowned. The battle had obviously deeply affected him, and though his sorrows were of a different shade than her own, he saw enough to extend her welcome. He also had no qualms about expressing his disapproval of anything he saw as less than proper treatment of her - more than once staring down a grizzled warrior from the Iron Hills as though he had no fear in the least, despite his small stature. Perhaps he did not… there was likely little that could intimidate one after being face to face with a dragon.

The Company, as Kíli and Bilbo referred to them, were for the most part not an issue. They all had more pressing matters on their minds, and were grieving the sudden loss of their king, some seemingly bewildered to be still living themselves. This also made them disinclined to deprive Kíli of whatever comfort he gained from her presence.

The young Ori was fascinated by her, and asked her so many questions that she might have been annoyed had they not come from a place of genuine interest rather than suspicion. As it was, being able to speak freely of her culture and former home and have it be received positively was freeing, and she gladly accepted his invitations to talk. At times his brother Dori joined them, offering her a drink and seeming pleased when she accepted. He would also interject his own knowledge into the conversation, and though some of it was entirely inaccurate, Tauriel skirted around correcting him directly. It would not do to sour any little good opinion that they may have of her, if she could avoid it.

The most wary had been Dwalin, and she had initially written him off as one of those whose opinion she was unlikely to ever sway, no matter how she tried. So it was with some shock that one day she realized that he had been quietly making sure that Kíli was never left without the presence of one or both of them as a bodyguard. Although his outward demeanor had not softened, her obvious commitment to keeping the young prince alive evidently meant more to him than kind words.

It was true that those members of the Company who were more resistant to Kíli's adulations of her were less likely to ignore the frequent mentions of her having saved his life - not once, not twice, but four times in the space of a few days. (Whether it was three or four had briefly been a matter of debate, as Kíli maintained that having saved her directly beforehand canceled out the last one. This matter was finally settled by Bilbo, who stated firmly that the point was moot, as Kíli certainly would not have survived had she not come to Ravenhill searching for him in the first place. Kíli hadn't seemed to mind losing the argument in the end, which oughtn't have been a surprise, considering all it did was make Tauriel look better.)

Thorin's absence was an open wound, and regardless of opinion, everyone was highly aware that only two heirs of the direct line of Durin were left - and one of those had a poor record when it came to keeping himself in one piece. They didn't have to admit to liking an elf in order to recognize that she had her... uses, and even if Kíli grated visibly at any talk of her only having worth as a shield, Tauriel was more than willing to take even that small grain of acceptance. Outside of their small circle, there was little of it to be found.

The only times Erebor truly felt like a home to her was after night had fallen, and that she attributed more to her bedmate than anything else. Kíli was openly thrilled about her presence, and had none of the shyness about demonstrating it that held her back. At times she felt guilty, that she was so tentative in her responses… but Kíli seemed to take every gesture of affection from her as the greatest gift he'd ever received, no matter how small it might be.

For his part, he showered her with gifts — gems that reminded him of starlight, beads for her long hair, a fine new bow and expertly crafted arrows. Tauriel had delighted at the bow, having been without one since the battle. She consented to only a couple of beads in her hair, woven into the few braids pulled back from her temple. Kíli had wanted to add dozens more, but she had refused, not wanting to provoke any dwarves that saw her more than necessary… and also because the feel of their weight was strange to her. She was not used to being adorned so.

The gems she had also gently turned away, soothing Kíli's hurt by reminding him that not only did she have no desire for such things, but there were a good number who would see it as evidence that an elf was seducing their prince to get at his riches. It soon became evident that she had every reason to be wary.

Kíli always insisted that he did not care what others thought, and that he'd fight any who dared voice such a thing. Tauriel had needed to force him to promise to let such insults pass without violence, as rising to the bait would not only make the situation more difficult for them, but also for Fíli, who had more than enough on his plate already as the young ruler of a barely functioning kingdom. The prospect of potentially causing grief for the two he loved most served to keep Kíli's more volatile temper in check, for the most part… but there was one notable incident where he failed rather spectacularly.

Tauriel had been returning from practicing outside with her new bow when she came across Dwalin, who was dragging a bloodied and yelling dwarf — one from the Iron Hills, from the look of his clothing — who spat at her as she passed by. Dwalin had simply twisted the other's arm further, before hauling him bodily towards the passageway that lead down to the dungeons. She had been staring after them, a deep anxiety rising in her chest, when Balin hurried up and gave her a long suffering look. He had always been polite enough to her, but she knew he was not completely certain about her presence in the mountain.

"He can't keep on like this, lass. I know you have been trying, but—"

His words only confirmed her initial fear, and she didn't wait for the elderly dwarf to finish before rushing ahead. It was easy enough to find Kíli, considering he was engrossed in a shouting match with his brother, his lip split and blood on his clothes.

"What is going on?" she snapped, drawing their attention. Kíli immediately avoided her gaze, though his mouth was set in an angry grimace.

Fíli simply looked weary, and shook his head at her as he left. "You'd best hear it from him."

Even after they were alone, Kíli would not meet her eyes. Instead they stood there, the silence an almost oppressive weight.

"Tell me that was not because of me," she said.

His flinch told her all she needed to know.

"Kíli!" she snapped. "You swore you would not, you know what this will do—"

"I had to!" he yelled, finally looking straight at her, eyes burning and fists clenched. "I hate everything they say about you, but this I could not let pass."

"What was it, Kíli? What could he have possibly said that is worse than what we've already heard?"

At that, the rage seemed to flow out of him, and he looked reluctant. "It's not…" he shook his head, scrubbing roughly at his stained coat. "I should get cleaned up. The longer I look like this, the more questions there will be."

"Kíli…" The obvious hurt in her voice made him flinch again, but still he revealed nothing. Feeling upset and betrayed that he of all people would keep a secret from her, one that involved her, Tauriel spun on her heel and left the way she came. As she went, her keen hearing picked up the soft 'I'm sorry, amrâlimê' aimed at her back.

It was Bofur who found her about an hour later, after she had run through all of her arrows several times and thoroughly wrecked the hasty practice targets that had been set up. She was seated, clutching her bow and staring at the destruction when he lowered himself beside her.

"I heard what happened," he started, and she cut him off with a snort.

"Then you know more than I."

There was a pause. "…Do you want to know what was said?"

Thrown off guard, Tauriel turned to stare at him, but there was only kindliness in his expression. "You would tell me, even knowing Kíli is against it?"

"Ah, he is young. He thinks it will only upset you, but I'm thinking you're already upset." Bofur inclined his head towards the wrecked archery range. "As it concerns you, you should know about it, so you can deal with it as you choose."

"And if what I choose is to put an arrow in the dwarf responsible?"

He chuckled. "If you were going to do that, you would have already — and to plenty of others. And he would have deserved it, besides."

Tauriel took a deep breath. "…What did he say?"

Bofur tapped his pipe against his chin. "He said that if you could save young Kíli on Ravenhill, then you could've saved Thorin, too. That you chose to let him die, because he'd never have allowed you to stay in the mountain. That you probably thought Fíli'd die too, and were counting on using the only remaining heir to get at the treasure, as he has a weakness for you."

It felt as though a rock had settled in her gut. She stared at him in dismay. "That's…"

"Ridiculous, I know." he said hastily, waving his pipe in the air. "We all know. Those of us that know you, at any rate."

"Know me?" While Tauriel had been on more amiable terms with some of the dwarves, including Bofur… she wouldn't have been able to claim she truly knew them, not yet. Perhaps it was simpler for them.

He offered her a smile. "We know enough to see you'd never let anything hurt the lad, or anyone he cared about, not if you could help it."

She lowered her head, staring at the ground. "…I would have saved him, if I could have."

"Aye. Thorin's dead by Azog's hand, and no one else's. You saved Kíli, more'n once, and for that you should be getting nothing but respect."

Much as his words reassured her, there was still one bit weighing heavy on her mind. "Why couldn't he tell me?"

He shrugged. "Can't say for sure. Maybe it simply hits too close. Doesn't just disrespect you, but his brother and uncle as well. Not easy to ignore."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me."

He returned her nod amiably and stood. "Now I'll be moving on before you pick a new target, seeing as those are done in."

It was something of a surprise to find herself smiling. "No, I'm done for the day. I'll put up new ones later… but there is something else I need to see to first."

Tauriel found Kíli in his chambers, seated by the fire. He rose when she entered the room, looking at her with sorrow tinged with wariness. "Tauriel…"

She walked over to him, taking his chin in hand and examining his injured lip. "…Were you hurt anywhere else?"

He shrugged, looking faintly proud. "Nah. He only managed to land one blow."

She blew out a breath, running her thumb lightly over the wound. At another time, Kíli would likely haven taken it between his teeth, in his playful way… but tonight he simply watched her, worry still evident behind the adoration in his eyes. Wanting to reassure him, she leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead.

He reached up in response to thread his fingers through her hair, brushing his fingers along the line of her jaw. "I take it you're not still angry with me, then?"

She rested her cheek against his hair, gazing down into the fire. "I know what he said to you."

At that, Kíli pulled away from her, face darkening. "Who told you?"

Tauriel regarded him calmly. "That is not important. You should have told me. I understand, now."

His jaw tightened visibly and he looked away. "I can't bear any of the hateful things they say about you, but to accuse you of such treachery, after all you've done…" She let him work through his thoughts, waiting for him to look back up at her. When he did, the fight drained from his body. "I did not want you to hurt because of such a thing."

She smiled gently and stepped back into his space, where he immediately welcomed her by wrapping his arms about her waist. "When you are hurting, so am I. Keeping me in the dark does not spare me. I need to know, Kíli. If I do not, I will simply fret more, wondering what I could do."

"You don't need to do anything," he murmured, head resting over her heart.

"Oh, but you do?"

He winced, tilting his face up to look into her eyes. "You said you understood."

"I do understand, but that does not mean I like it. I can defend my own honor, Kíli. I don't restrain myself because I am incapable of winning, but because doing so would earn us nothing but more hardship."

He huffed a frustrated sigh. "I don't understand why so many of them fail to see what I do, even with what they know of your heroics. From the moment I first looked upon you, I could tell you were remarkable. If I can see that from a prison cell, why is it so difficult for them?"

She laughed softly, pressing a kiss into his hair. "I believe they would say your eyes deceive you."

"Ah, but my heart does not." He grinned up at her.

Tauriel shook her head, flushing at the ease with which he said such things, and attempted to pull away. He laughed fondly and did not let her budge, soothing her embarrassment by peppering kisses along her neck.

Though they had come close several times before to being intimate, when kisses and caresses under the sheets had become almost too heated to bear… Tauriel had always brought it to a halt, unsure of herself and the breadth of what she was feeling. She had offered to leave the bed and give Kíli space to calm down, but he always rejected the idea and asked her to stay. So instead she had held him close, murmuring endearments into his hair until his breathing settled and he drifted to sleep. True to his word, Kíli never protested or pushed her for more, content so long as she was close.

This night was different. For the first time Tauriel felt no hesitation, and when Kíli paused, awaiting her permission, she granted it without fear.

Coming together in such a way was comfort, it was an apology, it was reassurance — and it was a celebration. Celebrating that they were together, that they loved, and that despite everything, nothing could take that away from them if they did not allow it.

It was a promise.

And if there was anything they had learned to take seriously, it was the keeping of promises.

(This was originally supposed to be all in one piece, the beginning part of a series of fics I have planned… and then I kept adding to it, and was psyching myself out so much that I decided to cut it in half so that I could at least have this part up while I worry about the second part!

This is my first time writing fic in over a decade, and I am very anxious about the whole thing. The more I look at it the more I'm convinced I should never write, haha! But I love these two, and their small little fandom, and I wanted to contribute somehow. I hope somebody enjoys it! Any feedback would be appreciated. You can also hit me up on tumblr, I'm micromys over there also!

The second part is mostly finished and will be up as soon as I finish fighting with it.)