This is a simple narration of the starlight scene, with some original dialogue at the end. I love that scene, it's probably my absolute favorite Kiliel scene, though I do like all of them. Enjoy!


For an Elf


Kíli sighed, turning the runestone his mother had given him over in his hands. He was bored. It had been a long day of sitting about doing nothing in this horrible cell. He was annoyed that they'd managed to get captured. He could barely remember walking through the forest. He did remember fighting with the spiders, though, and he definitely remembered being captured by the woodelves.

He threw the runestone up in the air, catching it as it came back down. He wished Thorin would have taken the deal Thranduil had offered him instead of insulting him. That would mean he'd be out of here, walking free. He tossed the stone up again, feeling its thud on his hand as he caught it. Still, he supposed Thorin's honor was important, too. And how would the Company know the elvenking would keep his word? From the stories Kíli had heard, he hadn't last time the dwarves had met him. Why would he change now?

An elf walked by his cell. She sparked a memory in his mind—right, she'd been in charge of the group of elves that captured him. He rolled his eyes, looking down at the runestone. He wished she'd been slacking on her job, so they'd be somewhere other than Thranduil's dungeon. And wasn't she the same one who'd locked him up in his cell?

Aren't you going to search me? he had asked cheekily, a little annoyed that they hadn't thought he was dangerous enough to search. I could have anything down my trousers.

Or nothing, she'd replied straight-faced.

He grimaced thinking about it. He'd been too surprised to come up with a suitable comeback. This elf was not one he was happy to see again.

She stopped at his cell and looked at him. He continued to stare down, ignoring her. What did she want?

"The stone in your hand," she said in a commanding voice. "What is it?"

He glared up at her, then glanced away. An idea came to mind—why not mess with her a little? She deserved it, locking them up in this cell.

"It is a talisman," he replied solemnly. His eyes were dark and brooding as he stared up at her in a challenge. Surprised, she turned away slightly. Good, maybe she'd leave if he continued along these lines.

"A powerful spell lies upon it—if any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone..." He looked down at the stone, shaking his head. "They will be forever cursed!" He lifted the stone up to her. That was a bit over the top; surely she'd see through it.

To his surprise, she seemed alarmed. She stepped back, her eyes wide. He put his arm back down, continuing to glare at her challengingly. She shook her head slightly, sighed, then began to walk away.

Really, she'd bought it? Well, he oughtn't to give her nightmares tonight, thinking she'd read a cursed stone. Even elves didn't deserve that kind of unease.

"Or not," he said quickly.

She stopped walking, turning her head back to face him.

"Depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing. It's just a token." Kíli lifted the stone back up to show her, a smile on his face. He laughed a little. The elf took a few steps back and stared at him, seemingly confused. Then she smiled in return.

"A runestone," he continued, looking back down at it. He remembered receiving the token. His mother had taken him into her arms the day he had left for the journey to Erebor and slid it into his fingers as they embraced.

Take this, she had said.

He had taken it, confused. Inik Dê, it read: Return to me.

Do you promise? she had asked.

Yes, Mother, Kíli had promised. I'll come back.

He stroked the stone and said to the elf, "My mother gave it to me. So that I'd remember my promise."

He wasn't quite sure why he was telling her this. Maybe because she'd seemed so shocked by his earlier lie. Maybe because she didn't seem all that bad, for an elf—she was listening to him, at least. He was glad it was night, when the other dwarves were all asleep. This would have been awkward to explain to the others.

The elf stepped forward, no longer alarmed. "What promise?" she asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

Kíli's smile faded slowly. "That I would come back to her." Somehow home seemed so far away. Here he was, trapped in an elven prison, divulging his secrets to a complete stranger who also happened to be a mortal enemy of his race. He was heading to a new home, Erebor; or at least he had been before the elves had stopped them. His old one had become a distant memory, the embrace of his mother only faint in his mind.

The elf smiled, looking down. Kíli looked up at her. Really, she wasn't that bad. He guessed. And not too ugly, either—for an elf.

"She worries," Kíli continued, more to himself than the elf maiden. He tossed the stone back up into the air. "She thinks I'm reckless." He caught it. He looked up at the elf and smiled.

She smiled back. "Are you?" she asked, not meeting his eyes. Was she...flirting? He couldn't tell, though the way she was acting suggested it. She looked back up at him, meeting his gaze as an equal.

He glanced away briefly, before looking back and smiling. "Nah." He tossed the stone up into the air again, certain he would catch it and look smooth and confident. (Not that he cared what he looked like in front of her. Unless she was flirting.)

Then, to his horror, he fumbled the catch, and the runestone went flying out of his cell. He reached forward helplessly, watching it tumble to the ground and bounce over the edge of the dungeon's stairwell, never to be seen again—

Only, it didn't. The elf stepped on it before it fell. He sprang to his feet, worried. She leaned down and picked it up.

She lifted it up above her head, turning it over in her hand. He looked up at her, suddenly surprised at how beautiful she was. Not that he found her beautiful—this was simply from an aesthetic point of view.

He heard the vague sounds of a crowd coming from above the dungeons. "Sounds like quite a party up there," he said, making a vague attempt at conversation.

She turned around, putting her hand back down. "It is Mereth-en-Gilith," she said, her smile widening. She paced a few steps away from his cell, and he looked at her and watched in interest. "The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar, but woodelves love best the light of the stars."

Kíli smiled up at the tall elf, a soft smile on his face. He was enamoured by her wonder of the stars, though he had never thought of them that way.

"I always thought it was a cold light," he murmured, standing at the edge of his cell. "Remote, and far away." He thought of his future away from this prison—that too was so distant, so small. All of life was in front of him: finding Erebor, reclaiming his homeland, returning to his mother...but somehow it didn't matter too much right then. Not when she was talking.

She looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. "It is memory, precious and pure," she said, her voice stern in reprimand. Kíli looked up at her, suddenly seeing the light of the stars in an entirely different way. Were they not beautiful, just as beautiful as she was? He felt a little guilty for thinking so, but her speech had warmed him to her. She was so passionate about the stars, their light shining in her eyes in this underground dungeon.

She tilted her head and smiled. "Like your promise." She offered him back the runestone on an outstretched palm.

Kíli glanced up at her, a little surprised, then reached out to take it. He felt his rough fingers brush her smooth palm, and it sent a little shiver down his spine.

She turned around, looking back up to where the noises came far above them, then glanced back to him. "I have walked there sometimes," she admitted, speaking softly as if telling a secret. She looked away again, the imagined starlight filling up her eyes until all Kíli could see was their wonder. "Beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away, and the white light of forever fill the air."

Kíli's conscience squirmed a little as he watched her. She was as pure as the starlight she spoke of. He wished to see the forever she spoke of. But he could not—he shouldn't even want that. He was a dwarf; she was an elf. There was no way they could be friends, or anything else. And he had barely met her. He didn't like her, not one bit. He couldn't.

Somehow his mouth ignored his conscience, and he founding himself blurting out, "I saw a fire moon once." He recalled the memory, seeing the blazing red moon and the shining stars in an entirely new light. She turned around, watching him in interest.

"It rose over the pass near Dunland, huge! Red and gold it was; it filled the sky." He smiled as she sat down, their eyes now level. "We were escorts for some merchants from Ered Luin, trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the mountain to our left—and then out of nowhere, this huge fire moon, lighting our path." He sighed. "You should have seen it. It was so beautiful—just like those woodland stars."

The elf laughed softly. "I hope to see one someday," she said. "All wonders of the sky are beautiful to me."

"I'd like to see some stars, too," Kíli said. "I miss the sky, sitting in this cell."

She smirked. "I'm afraid you'll have to sit here a little longer, Master Dwarf. Until your leader decides to make a deal with the king, you and your company are stuck in here."

"It's Kíli," he said, giving her his name. He rubbed his thumb on the runestone, feeling the markings beneath his finger. How would Mother feel about him chatting with this elf? Well, it didn't matter—she wasn't here. "I don't think that will be any time soon—Uncle Thorin would rather die than deal with Thranduil."

"I am Tauriel," she said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face. She raised an eyebrow and said, "He is your uncle? Is he truly as stubborn as the rumors say?"

"More so," Kíli said, snorting in laughter. "And with a grudge against your king to match."

"Thranduil is not so bad," Tauriel said, though her mouth twisted a little. "His foreign policy is...less than could be wished for, but he is a good king."

"I am sure he is," Kíli said, shrugging. "But he is stopping Thorin from becoming a king in his own right."

"It would be better for our kins to cooperate," she agreed. Kíli nodded his head.

"Maybe then we could work together," he said. "And maybe even go see those stars together." He was flirting with her now, so blatant even his own guilty conscience could tell.

She laughed, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "That would be wonderful, Kíli."

Kíli's heart jumped as she said his name. "Of course, first we have to convince Thranduil and Thorin to get along. And even then, I don't think my uncle would be too happy with us hanging around each other."

Tauriel laughed. "Yes—and I'm certain Thranduil would have a few things to say about it, too."

"You know, Tauriel, you're not so bad, for an elf," Kíli said, leaning up against the bars of his cell.

"And you're not so ugly, for a dwarf," she said, smirking.

"Well, now—" he protested, but he didn't get far. The blond elf, another member of the party that had killed the spiders and captured the Company, walked down to meet them.

Tauriel sprang to her feet, nodding to him as he approached. "Legolas," she greeted him.

"Tauriel." He glanced disapprovingly toward Kíli, who scowled. How rude of him to interrupt!

"Your shift ended near an hour ago," the blond elf said. "What are you doing down here? There is a feast going on."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes, I know. I didn't feel like going."

"Well, there are better places than the dungeons to wander in. Come with me to the archery ranges."

Tauriel glanced at Kíli, her mouth twisting in apology. Then she looked back to the blond elf. "If you wish. Don't think you'll outshoot me this time."

The blond elf laughed. Kíli glared at the wall of his cell. Of course there was someone else she liked. Why would she talk to an ugly dwarf if she had him?

"I can certainly try," the blond elf said, turning away.

"I'll meet you there, Legolas," Tauriel called after him. As he walked away, she turned back to Kíli.

"I'm sorry, Kíli, but I need to go," she said. "Legolas is my oldest friend. It was good to talk to you."

"Goodbye, Tauriel," he said, a little crestfallen. No, he was glad—this is what he'd wanted in the beginning, right? For her to go away?

"Farewell, Kíli." She nodded to him, then walked away, leaving him alone, the rest of the Company asleep.

After the echoes of her steps subsided, he took out the runestone again and tossed it into the air moodily. Why did he feel like this? It wasn't as if he really liked her, it was just...nice to see the other side of the elves. Maybe they weren't so bad after all.

"Kíli, what was that all about?"

He started guiltily. "Fíli? You...heard all that?"

The he couldn't see his brother from across the room, but he could tell Fíli was rolling his eyes. "Just the end of it. You want to go stargazing with her?"

"I was just—" he protested, but he couldn't find a good excuse. He trailed off.

"I'm glad Uncle was asleep for that," Fíli said.

"Please don't tell him," Kíli begged. He wished he could see his brother, but the angle of his cell was awful. He wished they'd been put in the same cell—well, maybe not. Then he wouldn't have been able to talk with Tauriel.

Fíli yawned loudly, the sound echoing throughout the dungeon. Kíli was astonished no one else had been awake to overhear.

"Alright, fine, I won't tell him," Fíli said. "Get some sleep, Kíli. It's late, and you've wasted your night flirting."

Kíli blushed. "Goodnight, Fíli."

"Goodnight, Kíli."

Before he went to sleep, curled up on the cold, hard floor of his cell, he grinned and tossed the runestone up in the air one last time.

"Tauriel," he whispered to himself. "That's a nice name...for an elf."