Standing in Erebor's great entrance hall to welcome Kíli and his ambassadorial party back from the East, Tauriel reflected on how grateful she was to have her place among the royal family accepted without question. Despite Thorin's approval of the match several decades ago, it had still taken the rest of the kingdom some time to acknowledge that she truly did belong at their prince's side. And even after that, she had long been the subject of curiosity.

Today, no one spared a thought for the elf woman who stood head and shoulders above the king, his sister, and his heir. All curiosity was focused on the returning prince and the news he brought from their allies in the Orocarni mountains.

While Tauriel did care what Kíli might say about distant kingdoms and rumors of war in lands far away, she found what she wanted most was simply to see Kíli's face again. He'd been gone nigh on six months, the longest she had ever been parted from him, and she had begun to feel the slight strain on the bond between her fae and his. She missed his ready smile, which fueled her own bright spirit like a flame, as well as the fond and tireless energy he had when dealing with their children. They had lately been, she found, nearly too much for her to manage alone.

Yet for all her eagerness to see him, she nearly did not recognize him when he came through the gate at the head of his envoy. Certainly, the lead dwarf had Kíli's stature and manner of moving, and she knew that dark, unadorned hair that fell loose past his shoulders. Yet his face was so obscured by a heavy and elaborately done beard that she did not realize it was Kíli until he winked at her.

She had to turn away and snort into her hand as demurely as she could manage; it would have done absolutely no good to burst out with peals of rippling elven laughter in front of the entire court, and at her husband's expense, no less. The elder prince's wife caught her eye then and shared a barely suppressed smirk of amusement, which had provided Tauriel with the solidarity she needed to regain herself at last and return to the duties of welcoming the travelers home.

Tauriel remembered, now, that Kíli had talked of growing his beard before he left; such was the fashion among the Eastern clans, and Kíli meant to offer it both as a sign of respect, as well as to allay concerns over his own unconventionality—he had married the elf, after all the controversy of that fateful Council years ago. But of course, all these months apart Tauriel had continued to imagine Kíli with the short beard he had worn since she had met him. Though even if she had remembered to think of him otherwise, she was not sure she could have conjured an image of anything like the fantastical beard that he wore on his face now. He sported several braids, short and neat and bound in silver, as well as a handful of lone silver beads about his mouth for good measure.

It once more took all her effort to stoop and offer him a single kiss of greeting without dissolving into undignified laughter. From the twinkling of his eyes as he returned her meleth nín with his amrâlimê, she knew that he was well aware of the effect his appearance had on her, and that it was quite everything he had hoped.

Tauriel surreptitiously watched him throughout the court dinner, wondering how he managed to eat with so much hair on his face, and indeed, he did seem somewhat more cautious in his table manners. Once when he had caught her looking at him, he had raised his brows as if to say, "See, I can manage."

Back in their rooms, Tauriel had finally given Kíli the greeting he deserved, dropping to her knees and drawing him close in a long, steady embrace. But when he tried to kiss her, she giggled and turned her face away.

"No, Kíli, not with that over-groomed brush on your face!" she protested, laughing harder now. "You've more ornaments in your beard than I've ever worn at one time on my entire person."

"Mine is considered a very conservative beard among the Stiffbeards and Blacklocks," Kíli said. "A meager fringe only a bare-faced elf could love." He pressed near and managed to place one kiss at her cheek.

"You lie most brazenly, love," she said, ducking her head down away from him and pressing her lips to the one bare patch of skin she could find at the base of his throat, inside his collar.

"Tauriel," Kíli sighed with elaborate desperation, "It's been half a year since I've tasted your lips. Surely you won't be so cruel as to deny me?"

"Certainly not, as soon as I can see you've any lips to kiss!" Tauriel held his face between her hands and studied him carefully. "I'm afraid, my love, that your face is quite as overgrown as any thicket in Mirkwood." She kissed his brow and then stood. "Why don't I draw you a bath?"

As Kíli soaked, Tauriel leaned over the rim of the tub behind him, her arms draped over his shoulders. She had dearly missed this warm, wordless connection of her skin against his. He, too, seemed fully content to sit still while she brushed her fingers over him. Yet once or twice he nonetheless tried to turn back and kiss her.

When she had evaded him for a third time, he sighed deeply. But there was laughter in his voice when he said, "All right, Taur; fetch my razor and comb, would you?"

She brought them, and then held a mirror so he could see to work.

When he'd trimmed half of the beard away, she laid down the mirror for a moment and leaned close to kiss his much cleaner cheek. "So that is my Kíli under there, and not some Blacklock spy sent back to learn the kingdom's secrets."

"Raise that mirror, lass; you make me quite eager to be rid of this wretched thing, since it proves such an impediment to your caresses," Kíli urged merrily.

Giggling, her face now smeared with lather and a dusting of trimmings, she complied.

In the end, Kili somehow managed to cover Tauriel in enough soap that she was forced to join him in the tub, and once in, the two of them behaved quite as foolishly as their own children during bath time. Much soap was spilled and water splashed before they both were rinsed and clean.

Once they were dried and laid down in bed on clean sheets which Tauriel had aired outside so that they smelled of clover, Tauriel kissed him.

He was rough and sweet all at once: sharp, newly trimmed whiskers that scraped her cheek, followed by soft, warm lips that soothed where he'd scratched her. His embrace felt the same blend of harsh and tender, his grasp strong even as his touch was gentle.

"I've missed you, hadhodeg, and I'm very glad you're back," she whispered.

"Six months is a very long time to spend every morning braiding my beard and worrying about crumbs each time I take a bite. And it is far too long to go without kissing the elf I love," he returned.

She chuckled, the laughter pressing her ribs against his. "You could have cut the beard off when you left the council."

"And lose the pleasure of teasing you? Certainly not. Your face, when you saw me come in, was beyond price."

"You looked quite a stranger, my love."

Kíli laughed and drew her down for another kiss. "Now that you know me for your husband, won't you tell me how much you love me?"

"I think..." Tauriel gasped as he drew a rough cheek over her skin. "I think it might be easier to show you."

And she did.

Author's note:

That Elf Girl requested this after I told her how Tauriel would have reacted had she ever seen the fully braided and beaded beard that Kili intended to grow in So Comes Snow After Fire.

fae - spirit (Sindarin)

hadhodeg - "my dear little dwarf" (Tauriel's special name for Kili.)