When the doors to the Hall of Healing were thrown open, and Kíli came stumbling in as if a pack of wargs were at his heels, Tauriel's first instinct was to drop the tray in her hands and reach for her daggers. As there were no actual giant wolves chasing him, nor did she have a weapon on her person, she found the nearest flat surface to empty her chained hands and rushed to his side. She approached the Dwarf and took stock of what she could see of him; flushed cheeks, bright eyes, heavy breathing. The Elf stretched out a hand to check him for fever, but he caught her mid-reach and brushed his lips along her knuckles with a smile.
Her pleas to let her check him over were swept away with a wink and a shake of his head. His gaze moved past her to where she knew her ever present shadow to be and with her hand still in his, he led her in that direction. They paused in front of her guard only long enough to swap the parchment in his hands for the keys to her chains and it was minutes later that the two were out in the hall, only now she was free of her bonds. She begged him again; to slow, to stop, to let her check his bandages. She was terrified that he would hurt himself in his hurry, but more afraid that she would cause him harm if she were to resist his pull.
Still huffing, and no less flushed, Kíli led her to what looked to be a random door. He paused only briefly before he pushed the door open and, never once releasing her grip, backed his way into the room. Tauriel took in her surroundings with a glance, more interested in watching the man before her. It was an empty bedroom, furnished, but with no signs of being occupied, and she wondered at the excitement on his face.
His smile grew impossibly wide and Tauriel found her worries forgotten with his next statement. "It's for you," he explained, taking her other hand as well.
Surprised, she looked again at the space; a dresser, a wardrobe, a vanity and chair. Her attention fixed on the bed. It was smaller than she was used to, but not so much that it would be uncomfortable; in fact, she noted, it would fit two quite easily. The thought flitted through her mind and she was glad to not have been meeting Kíli's eye at the time.
She continued her examination of the room. Someone had been by to light the lamps and place fresh linens on the mattress. There was a small furnace in one corner of the room giving off a comfortable heat, with a cushioned seat beside it.
Unable to find an excuse any longer she let her gaze fall back to the Dwarf in front of her. His breathing had evened out in the time that they had been standing, and the high color had retreated from his cheeks, but a shine was still in his eyes.
She led him to the chair by the heater and bade him to sit. "Please," she implored him again. "Let me check your wound." Though he did not seem to be in distress, her fears would not be completely put to rest until she saw that all was well with her own eyes.
Tauriel was grateful when he nodded and lowered himself onto the cushion. She knelt in front of him and found herself looking up into his face for the first time. He held her gaze as he reached for the hem of his tunic, only breaking away as it went over his head. Her cheeks began to warm but she ignored the sensation. She had tended many a wounded man and woman in her years as Captain of the Guard, and had never before been effected by the site of bare skin. Elves, while strong, were generally very slight of build, but the body that was before her spoke of raw power, barely restrained, and she stared, unabashed. There was a layer of fine hair across his breast; thin, but covering the expanse; and she found her hand moving through it without remembering having given it permission.
She raised her eyes to meet his again and her breath caught at the spark of heat that she found there. She pulled her hand away, embarrassed to be so enamored, and cast her eyes to the large bandage wrapped around his middle. It was only her decades of practice that kept her fingers from fumbling on the bindings, and for that she was grateful. Kíli sat, silent and steady, his hands gripping the arms of the chair, as she unwound the clothe. His breath hitched only once, as her hand grazed over his bare flesh. Underneath she found puckered, pink skin; scar tissue, still tender, but nearly healed.
"I'm fine." His voice, though soft, seemed loud in the space between them. "A weeks mending does wonders for a Dwarf. We're tougher than we look." He laid a hand on her cheek and she closed her eyes, letting herself turn into the caress. "Last night's weakness was nothing more than a lingering of Óin's tonic. It's quite potent."
His tone was too light and contrasted to the heaviness that had weighed her down for the past week. Tears pooled in her eyes without her consent before spilling over. She pressed her lids more tightly shut, not wanting to see the disgust on his face at her weakness. She tried to pull back, to turn away, but he pulled her fully into his embrace with strong arms and held her close, running his fingers through her hair. The ache in her chest built higher and higher at his act of kindness, and she could hold herself in check no longer. All at once the stress, the fear, the despair that she had felt over the past days came pouring forth from her in a great deluge. In her mind she could see him, pale and near lifeless; could feel the listless way his body had moved when she had taken him into her arms on Ravenhill.
She had not realized that she was speaking through her sobs until his voice answered her.
"It's all right," he murmured, "I'm alive. I didn't die. I won't leave you."
She took comfort in hearing the words from him and shame that she should need that comfort. What a poor specimen of her people she was, to be ruled so completely by her emotions. He held her until her tears ran dry and she pulled away, rubbing at her eyes with unforgiving force. A punishment, if a small one, for her shortcomings.
He pulled her hands away and, ever so gently, dried the remainder of her tears with his thumbs. "Amrâlimê, you must be gentle." The smile he gave her was tender and his heart shone from his eyes.
Her first instinct was to pull away; to retreat back into herself and try to rebuild what defenses that she could; but his gaze was so sincere, and his touch so reassuring, that she could not find it in herself to do so. She still did not know the exact translation of the foreign word, but she could guess at its meaning and it brought a warmth to her heart that could drive out any cold. With his hands still cupped to her face, Tauriel did what she should have done on the beach of the Long Lake. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his for the first time. It was a gentle kiss, sweet in its innocence and uncertainty, and in that moment all of her fears for the future and shame of the past dissipated into the ether.
The fingers of one of Kíli's hands brushed the edge of her ear as it traveled into her hair and her breath caught at the touch. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss and her own hands found their way around him. She clutched desperately at his shoulders, and pulled their bodies flush. The solidness of his frame was a reassurance that she needed and when he broke off the kiss, and rested his forehead against hers, it was a desperate choked-off sound that escaped her.
When she was finally able to open her eyes, she could not help but to return his shy smile.
"Hello," he whispered, and she cherished the feeling of his breath across her cheek.
She would later blame it on the emotional turmoil that had just poured from her, but for the first time that she could remember, in all of her six centuries, Tauriel let loose a laugh so light and full of happiness that it could be called nothing else but a giggle. The sound was so foreign that it startled her and she covered her swollen lips as she sat back. There was no denying the blush that now spread across her being; she could feel it from the tips of her ears, down to her chest.
A heartfelt laugh erupted from Kíli and she would have been offended at being ridiculed, if she had not enjoyed the sound so much. He pulled her back to him and buried his face in her hair. She wrapped her arms around him again and wallowed in the contentment that their embrace brought to her. She took comfort in the warmth of his body and the strength that she could feel hidden just beneath his skin. A dark thought crept into her mind, one that Tauriel could not deny. No matter how strong he was he would never share in her immortality, and one day she would truly lose him. She held him all the more tightly for it.
There were no words for Kíli to describe the way he felt to be alone with his love and be able to hold her in his arms. There had been a time, at the top of Ravenhill, when he had believed that a moment such as this would never happen. He had been so sure of his own demise, and in part, had been happy to follow after his brother. His only regret had been the thought of leaving Tauriel to deal with the hulking Orc who would have been the death of him. Looking back now he could see what a fool he had been for giving up. If not for the stubborn woman before him, he would not have been joining his brother as he had thought, but would have been leaving him behind instead.
He pushed the thought away to focus once more on the woman in his embrace. His nose was still buried in her hair and he let himself inhale the scent of her. Perhaps it was the auburn color of her locks, but as he drew in her essence, he could see in his mind's eye autumn leaves being spun around in a whirlwind. Her breathing was even now; a comfort to him after the broken heaving Tauriel had struggled with earlier. He smoothed his hand once more down her back and a small part of his mind marveled at how someone who felt so frail could be so powerful. He wondered who would win if they were to spar. The thought sent a jolt through his veins and he pulled away from her, afraid that she would not appreciate the reaction his body had to that image.
They could not have stay wrapped around each other forever, regardless. Eventually her neck would grow stiff and uncomfortable from keeping the upturned angle; this he knew from experience. Her eyes were impossibly wide and perhaps a little lost. Kíli had always heard about the coldness of Elves, how emotionless they were, but he had seen a passion in the woman before him that would make any Dwarf proud. He could not keep the smile from his face in her presence and was more than happy when she returned it. If his Elf was feeling lost then he would do all that he could to help her find her way again.
He took both of her hands in his larger grip and rose to his feet, pulling her along with him. If he were the proper sort, he would leave her for the night and return to his own room. He glanced at the door in uncertainty before meeting her gaze again. Leaving was the last thing that he wanted to do but he was unsure of what expectations she would have of him. How did one court an Elf?
Tauriel squeezed his hands in her own, bringing his attention back to her. "Stay," she requested, "if only for a while longer."
Unable to deny his Lady anything, he nodded. He released her hand only long enough to redon his tunic before then reclaiming it to lead her the short distance to the bed. There they sat, facing one another on the soft mattress.
The silence stretched out between them and Kíli blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "What is that you're wearing?" His own cheeks now held a blush at his thoughtless words, but he wouldn't deny his curiosity. The Wood Elf's usual forest colored armor had been replaced with a plain gray gown that was just barely too short.
Tauriel blinked at the sudden question before looking down at herself. "Do you not like it?" She plucked at the skirt with one hand and answered in an uncertain voice. "When it became clear that my presence here would be lingering, your uncle sent to Dale to provide me with the clothing that I would need." Her tone turned wry. "He said that he would not tolerate the stench of unwashed Elf stinking up his halls."
Kíli pushed away the irritation of his uncle's words and focused on the fact that she had been thought of at all. "He'll come around." His tone was more hopeful than convincing and he wondered for whose benefit the words were spoken. He searched his mind for a new subject, anything that would fill the air between them and give him a reason to linger. "What have I missed this last week? Where's Bilbo? I haven't seen him around at all."
Her smile told him that she knew what he was doing and she shifted back on the bed to settle herself against the pillows. "The Halfling is already on his way back home." Her tone spoke of an apology relayed second hand. "He would have stayed to see you wake, but Mithrandir was to be his guide and wizards are restless creatures."
Tauriel stretched out her arm and patted the space beside her. He did not need to be told twice and shuffled his way next to her so that they were shoulder to shoulder. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, something he was almost afraid to ask. He took her hand back into his own and focused on that simple contact as he spoke. "Why are you here?" She stiffened beside him. He met her eyes and rushed to undo any damage his reckless words had done. "Because I love that you are, I do, but I need to know what has changed since the lake. If you are here only because you have nowhere else to go, you should know that I would still welcome you in the mountain, but you need not pretend something that is not there. If it is pity that brings you to me, then I beg you, please tell me now so that we may end it." He shifted onto his side to better face her, still propped up on the mound of pillows beneath them. "But if you feel for me, even in part, what I feel for you, I would devote the rest of my life to you and your happiness."
He could see the war inside of her playing out across her face and he could only wonder how hard it would be to speak freely of his own emotions after having lived through centuries of repression. "You don't have to answer me tonight." He brought their joined hands to his face and nuzzled the back of hers. "Did you know that Dwarves only love once?" He could see that she had not, but she made no move to speak. "You are my One, Tauriel, and I will never love another. But I would not hold you here for that reason alone. A dungeon is a dungeon, bars or no, and a prisoner is a prisoner, even if it is just of the heart."
Her eyes slid closed but she did not pull away from him. Without opening her eyes she turned towards him so that they were face to face once more, and began to speak. "I thought that you had died." Her voice was soft, but full of a powerful emotion. "I thought that you had died, and I held you in my arms, and I mourned you. I have known you for barely any time at all and yet I felt your loss so keenly." She gave a shuddering sigh but still would not open her eyes. "When I realized that life still flowed within you I knew that I had been given a second chance. Not many are so lucky and I will not throw such a gift away." Finally her lids lifted and he was faced with a forest of emotion. "If Iluvatar allows it, I will stay with you until your last breath, may it be far from now, and then I will follow you."
It was spoken with the weight of a vow and Kíli felt a shiver go through him.
"Elves are much the same as Dwarves when it comes to love," she whispered. "Only once."
He felt a small smile quirk his lips. "How is it done?" At her raised eyebrows, he clarified, a blush dusting his cheeks again. "Courting, I mean. I know how I would go about things if you were a Dwarf, but..." he let the thought trail off.
She gave him a teasing smile and caressed his hand with her thumb. "There is a lot of pomp and circumstance, the meeting of families, a trading of rings, and a year of betrothal before the ceremony."
"A year," his voice was incredulous.
She huffed a laugh at his reaction and he loved the sound of it. "What is it like for your people?"
"Well we certainly don't make anyone wait a year." He wanted to honor her culture, but twelve months was a very long time. "For most Dwarves, it's usually no more than an agreement between both parties. Then it's just a matter of getting everyone together, gathering enough food and drink for family and friends, an exchange of vows and that's it."
"No tokens to exchange?" Her thumb had moved to rub circles on his palm and, even though it was a small movement, it was driving him half mad.
"Jewelry," he answered, and then forced himself to focus on his words and not her touch. "Any kind of jewelry, usually made by hand." A new thought occurred to him. "You said meeting of families. You know most of mine already and my mother should be here soon." At her stricken look he rushed to assure her, "She's going to love you. Really, you have nothing to worry about." She didn't seem at all relieved and he was reminded of his words to her the night before when he had reassured her about his uncle. He dismissed the thought out right. His mother had always been the more level headed of the siblings. "Am I going to meet your family as well?"
A pained expression flitted across her face, but it was the look of an old wound. "I have been alone in this world for many centuries now. The closest to kin that I have is my dear friend, Prince Legolas." The pain on her face this time was fresh and raw. "I do not know if I will ever see him again."
There were no words of comfort that he could give to her. He brushed his free hand along her face hoping that his touch might be enough. He hated that she should feel such anguish, and that he was, at least in part, to blame. It was one more reason for him to loathe the Prince of the Woodland Realm. Kíli inhaled a deep breath and released his anger with it. Holding a grudge against one that Tauriel would consider her kin would only hurt her in the end. "We have time," he comforted her. "You and I will have to come to a compromise on this year business, but we have time. Perhaps things will change and you will have your friend at your side once again." She gave him a weak smile but neither agreed nor argued. "Thorin is reaching out to the Men of Dale," he persisted, "perhaps it is not so far to think that a peace can be found between our two peoples as well."
Her smile was much more heartfelt and he was lost at the sight. If she had asked him to dance the night away with the Elven prince, it would have been done, so long is it would bring her pleasure.
Hand-in-hand the two talked into the night, and when sleep finally came for them, they were wrapped in each other's arms again, him propped on a pillow and her resting against his chest. He knew, in the moment before he finally drifted off, that if every night were to end in the same, he would spend the rest of his life a very happy Dwarf.
A/N:This chapter was almost utter crap and you have my husband to thank for catching it. Originally this chapter and the next were one long one, but it was rushed and didn't flow properly. He encouraged me to split them and expand and that is exactly what I did. I'm much happier with the result, though this could use a bit more polish, but I only have an hour before it's time to post. So, no Figrid this time, but all Figrid next time.
A/N: Also, I tend to use the time when I update to fix any editing in previous chapters. I'm not sure how update alerts work for that, so apologies to anyone who is getting 4 or 5 alerts per chapter, hehehe.